A Wedding Song
by BuffyAngel68
Summary: The wedding approaches! Grab your tissues and keep them close by!
1. Default Chapter

Title: A Wedding Song--- Chapter 1--- Time in a Bottle....  
  
Author: BuffyAngel68  
  
e-mail: vg68@msn.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Category: Romance, Romance, Romance! (Okay so there should be some angst and a little adventure thrown in as well, but.... the title says it all!)  
  
Summary: This will take you up to and through Bobby and Darien's commitment ceremony. Grab tissues and prepare to bawl until you can't bawl anymore! (It makes a very slight detour into song-ficly type areas near the end, but it really isn't one! Trust me, the appearance of any music is plot-driven and I set it up way back. Song-fic haters don't you dare abandon me! Have faith!)  
  
Notes: Love truly is a wondrous and miraculous thing. May we all find in reality the perfect love we adore helping our borrowed fictional characters find. I'm not making any money off the characters (unless you count my fee as wedding planner) and they're not mine nor are they anybody else's at the moment. (Shoot and tarnation and gol-darn-it! I really need to get my T.V. executive mind control device finished. Maybe with a change or two I can use it on fan-fiction site owners too....)  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"You said yes?" Claire squealed elatedly, wrapping her arms around Bobby. "I've been praying he'd find the courage to ask you! Congratulations, sweetheart!"  
  
"Thanks, Claire.... Hey. Wait a minute. How did you know before I knew?" Hobbes asked, pulling away a short distance.  
  
"Darien and I had a little talk. He wanted advice on whether he should bring up the subject. He was afraid you'd reject the idea out of hand. I'm so glad you didn't!" she cried, hugging him again.  
  
"Not that I don't enjoy this, Claire, but I'm an engaged person now...."  
  
"Oh, yes! Of course." she replied, moving away from him, but her prim and proper façade lasted only a moment. Instead of making the faux pas of embracing Bobby again she directed her excess exuberance into leaping and dancing around the lab for a few minutes while Hobbes watched in amusement.  
  
"An' I thought I was excited...."  
  
"What? Oh, sorry." she apologized when she'd finally wound down. "It's out of my system now, I promise. Come sit down and tell me everything! I want every detail." She enthused, leading him by the hand to the admin. chair.  
  
"Not everything. Some of those details.... they're private. I'll give you the good stuff though. We were sittin' on the couch together like we do sometimes. When one of us has somethin' to tell the other that could be hard to say, or it's really serious, the one who's gonna listen stretches out one leg on the sofa an' the one who's talkin' sits with his back to the other one's chest...."  
  
"Oh my God... you cuddle. How utterly adorable...."  
  
"I thought you wanted to hear this."  
  
"I do, I do! Pardon my outburst of femininity. Please continue."  
  
"Okay. See, I've got a couple things I'm workin' through in therapy... things Fawkes didn't know about. Nobody did 'cept me an' my shrink. I... I told him about one of 'em the other night. We both bawled, he thanked me, said he loved me.... an' said he hadn't been totally sure before, but now he was.... That's when he asked me to marry him."  
  
"What did he say exactly? Give it to me verbatim!"  
  
"Sheesh, when you decide to be a girl, you really go for it. Lemme think... it ain't exact, okay? I think he said, 'Will you stand up with me, in front of Claire an' Eberts an' get committed."  
  
"Bobby... that can't be right."  
  
"Hang on... oh yeah. It was 'will you *make* a commitment to me, to our baby an' to our love."  
  
Claire shut her eyes, squeaked again, pushed off with one foot and began to spin around on her lab stool, both arms wrapped tightly around herself. When she finally slowed to a stop and opened her eyes they were slightly crossed, eliciting a guffaw from Bobby.  
  
"Gives a new meanin' to dizzy dame...."  
  
"Yes, it does... doesn't it. Am I still rotating... or is it the room?"  
  
"It's your head. Give it a minute. And don't do that again. It makes me nauseous to watch."  
  
"Sorry... I'm just so happy for you and Darien! After all you've come through to be together and to have and keep your child... noone deserves it more than the two of you. Have you talked about where's and when's yet?"  
  
"Well, seein' as you an' Ebes are the only guests, I was thinkin' our place would be the easiest. We could have the reception right there, make it simple for everybody. When.... well, we ain't sat down to hash that out yet."  
  
"Oh, Bobby. He hasn't contacted his family?"  
  
"Not once durin' the whole pregnancy. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just keeps sayin' he's got a real family now. Says he wants to leave everything that came before Bobbi an' me in the past where it belongs. I can see his point, I guess."  
  
"Does that mean you won't be calling Vivian to tell her you're getting married again?"  
  
"Oh, right. I'm gonna call Viv an' tell her I'm in love with my partner, my *male* partner, he gave birth to our little girl an' now we're gettin' hitched? I got my meds right up in my office. I can go get you some if you want..."  
  
"If you tell her that she'll wonder just what medication you're really taking. Tell her about Darien yes, but when it comes to the baby just tell her what's on the birth certificate and the paperwork Eberts got for you."  
  
"What? That Bobbi's mom died in childbirth? I could, yeah, but.... it's not worth it to drag up all the hurt again. Darien's right. Leave the past in the past an' move on."  
  
"It's going to be hard to make any sort of forward progress with her dragging at your heels, Bobby. Darien has his own breaks with the past to make. Perhaps if he sees you're able to deal with yours, he'll be better able to face up to his."  
  
"I don't *want* him cuttin' off his aunt an' his grandma. I'm still workin' on getting the three of 'em together."  
  
"I was talking about Kevin, actually."  
  
"We dealt with that back at the cemetery that day..."  
  
"No, you didn't. You comforted him and told he didn't have to think about it anymore just then, that you'd straighten it out between the two of you later on. Then came Arnaud's death and Liz Rendell and the baby... Unless you did talk it out and I never heard about it, he hasn't gotten the closure he needed."  
  
Bobby gave the concept several minutes of serious thought, then spoke his conclusion.  
  
"Yeah.... but that's blackmail. I can't do that to him."  
  
"It may be blackmail, but it's also necessary for both of you. Don't drag any old, festering issues into this marriage if you don't have to. Both of you start with a clean slate."  
  
"Clean slate. That sounds really good, ya know? It'd feel even better. Thanks again, Claire. You're the best.... even if you are a dizzy dame." Bobby told her, initiating the hug this time.  
  
"I think that was a compliment."  
  
"Trust me, it was. Ah, crap! Briefing in ten minutes! I gotta run. You comin'?" he asked as they separated.  
  
"I'll be right behind you."  
  
"You always have been. Don't think we don't appreciate it, either." Bobby said just before he rushed out the door.  
  
Glad he couldn't see the flush that his words brought to her cheeks, Claire gathered up the papers she needed for the briefing and followed him out, locking the lab behind her.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"That's enough, Alex. Either you calm down or you go somewhere else. The three of them will be here any minute and I won't have you standing at my side if you can't maintain control."  
  
In response, Alex merely clenched her teeth, tensing the muscles on both sides of her jaw, and forced out a few words.  
  
"Easy for you to say."  
  
"Stop complaining about it and do it! Within two weeks my new assistant will be here and you'll be back in the field. I promised you that, didn't I?"  
  
"You also promised that Fawkes the freak and that hairless Chihuahua he calls a partner would get what they deserved. Planning on making that happen any time soon?"  
  
"The child is protected. I told you that."  
  
"You have yet to tell me why."  
  
"It's none of your business, Alex! They're here.... Just shut up and don't speak unless you're spoken to!"  
  
As Claire, Darien and Bobby filed into the room, Alex systematically tuned out all of their chatter and retreated to the dark space in her mind, a lonely, demoralized place that she'd been cultivating and nurturing since the birth of the baby.  
  
{So. Is that the way it is, Charlie? I trusted you to do the right thing, old man. You swore you had the perfect plan to pull them out of this fantasy world and back to where they belong. Now it looks like I'll have to step in and get the job done..... my way.}  
  
"Gentlemen. Keeper. This is your new assignment." The Official grunted, tossing manila folders across the desk. The trio leaned in to grab their copies while he continued his briefing. "This one won't be easy. In fact it may be one of the hardest things I've ever had to assign. As of tomorrow morning we only have forty eight hours to pull this off. If we don't make it in time.... it's all there in your folders." The Official told them, his expression grim, his skin pale.  
  
Bobby was the first to reach the relevant portion of the text and he immediately turned a sickly shade of green.  
  
"You can't be serious, boss.... Even Chrysalis wouldn't... they couldn't do.... this.... It.... no..."  
  
"I'm afraid the intel is from an extremely accurate source."  
  
"H... How accurate?" Claire asked, trying valiantly to keep her gag reflex from kicking in.  
  
"The source is one of the children that are slated for... inclusion in this heinous act. He managed to escape, somehow made contact with the FBI who, in their great esteem for our agency, thought he was insane and sent him here."  
  
"Sir.... how are we supposed to stop this?" Darien asked, his voice trembling. "Fifty kids.... God... they're gonna just slaughter fifty kids.... 'cause it turns out they're not totally perfect.... how...."  
  
"Any way we can, using any means necessary. You won't be alone. There'll be plenty of backup."  
  
"And me? Why include me in this?" Claire questioned.  
  
"In case any of the children gets caught in weapons crossfire, or if we can't get to them before.... I can only pray you won't be needed, doctor, but I want you there...."  
  
"In case. I understand, sir. May I go throw up, now?"  
  
"All of you are free to go. At 0600 tomorrow morning you're to be here and ready to deploy."  
  
Claire and the men rose from their chairs on shaky knees and slowly left the office. Bobby wrapped an arm around Darien's waist and they supported each other over the threshold and into the hall. Only when they were gone did Alex speak up.  
  
"I assume I'm part of the backup."  
  
"No. I need you here to coordinate things between the office and the agents on site."  
  
"Sir..."  
  
"No. For the next two weeks your job is here in this office, Agent Monroe. Accept that. I need the file on Jared Stark. Maybe if I review it one more time I'll find something.... anything that might help. Monroe? Are you listening? Find me that file."  
  
"Yes... sir."  
  
Grinding her teeth together even harder than she had been before the briefing, Alex stalked out of the Official's office to go and retrieve the file he'd requested.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC..... 


	2. I Can Be Your Hero

Wedding Song Chap. 2--- I Can Be Your Hero  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
At five a.m. the next morning, Darien was already at the Agency waiting for something to happen. Out of necessity, Bobby had risen and joined him, unable to stay asleep if his partner wasn't close to him.  
  
As they sat and waited, Bobby scribbled and erased, scribbled and erased on a legal pad, scowling as if the paper itself was foiling his attempts to get the words right.  
  
Darien sketched quickly with charcoal on a drawing tablet, bobbing his head to the music in his walkman's headphones. When Bobby tried to get a look at what he was doing, the younger man shooed him away and sent him back to his own work.  
  
"C'mon, Fawkes. Lemme see. I can't do no more of this stuff. It's a waste of time..."  
  
Pulling off his headphones and stopping the tape, Darien frowned at Bobby in disappointment.  
  
"Waste of time? Your vows are *not* a waste of time, Bobby. You're tryin' too hard to write what you think I wanna hear. Just write what you feel. You'll know when it's comin' from your heart."  
  
"You write yours yet?"  
  
"Mostly. I just have a couple tweaks... an adjustment or two to the way I said some stuff."  
  
"Can I hear?"  
  
"At the wedding. Besides, I didn't bring my notes with me."  
  
"Figures." Bobby grumbled, looking back down at the paper in his lap with disgust. Darien finally took pity on him and tore off the page he was working on, handing Hobbes the pad and a black felt tip pen from the small art kit that went everywhere with him.  
  
"Here. Take a break from the writing. Draw something."  
  
"Me? You're jokin'. I couldn't draw if my life depended on it."  
  
"You ever tried to draw?"  
  
"No, but..."  
  
"Then give it a shot an' give me some peace for a while, willya? I brought my favorite mix tape this mornin'. I'd like to get back to listening to it."  
  
"Yeah, but... what am I supposed to draw?"  
  
"Whatever. Pick out somethin' from the room or think somethin' up. Just draw." Darien instructed him, replacing the phones and pushing the play button.  
  
For a few minutes, Bobby simply sat and stared at the paper, as if he expected something magic and wondrous to flow through his hand and begin to move the pen, creating an image on the paper. When it didn't happen, he realized he'd have to do it himself and felt a tiny drop of acrid fear collect in the pit of his stomach.  
  
{I can't do this.... it won't look like anything. An inkblot maybe.... I can't do it like he can. Forty minutes left 'till blast off. Okay, so I'll give it a chance, but I'm never showin' this to anybody....}  
  
Slowly, uncertainly, Bobby drew one curved line, then another, clearly visualizing the image he wanted to see on the paper, but afraid his untrained fingers could not make the pen perform. When Darien came and stood over his shoulder, merely observing, not offering advice or help, Bobby looked up once to acknowledge him then returned his eyes to his work.  
  
It was almost six by the time Hobbes felt the rough sketch was finished and he looked up at Darien once more, a deep need for approval shining out from his eyes.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Darien crouched to put his head on an even keel with Bobby's.  
  
"Who cares what I think?"  
  
"I do. You're the artist in the family, right?"  
  
"Is it what you wanted it to be?"  
  
"I don't know.... it's as close as I could get to the picture in my mind."  
  
"Then it's perfect. Sign your name to it."  
  
"You.... you can tell... I mean, you know.... what I was goin' for?"  
  
"Of course I do. It's me when I was still pregnant with Bobbi."  
  
Doubt lit for the briefest of moments on Darien's face and he asked a question. Bobby's reply made his insecurity take flight again, lifting the momentary weight from his heart. "Can I ask...."  
  
"Why I picked that to draw? Not sure. I've been thinkin' a lot about those months lately.... about what you went through. How I never believed in all that "pregnant wo... people have this glow" crapola. Not until I saw you, anyway. I remember watchin' you sleep.... it was about two weeks before the birth. It was late... past midnight so the room was pitch black an' I swear.... I looked at your face.... it wasn't like actual light or anything. Just this.... peaceful, calm feelin' that I could almost reach out an' touch.... but I felt like if I did.... it'd go away. I laid there an' I thought, 'How can a man be so beautiful?' That was the only word that fit.... you were just.... beautiful."  
  
Darien raised a hand to Bobby's cheek and opened his mouth to speak, but their moment was cut short by Claire's appearance in the doorway.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt, boys, but we need to go. Now."  
  
"Comin', Claire." Hobbes said, giving Darien's hand a squeeze before they both stood and hurried out of the room, minds forced away from each other and back to the tragedy it was their mission to prevent.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"So this place used to be a middle school?"  
  
Darien tossed the question out to Bobby as they huddled with Claire on the East side of the wall that separated the now decrepit playground from the street.  
  
"Yeah, up 'till a couple years ago I guess. It was too small, so they built a new one. This was slated to be turned into offices, but the deal fell through, the building got abandoned.... same old same old, ya know?"  
  
Claire, her brow furrowed with concern and fear, swiveled her head in both directions as if searching for something.  
  
"Claire, relax. I know it feels like we're flyin' solo, here, but the other teams are there. They've been in place since last night."  
  
"I understand. I'd just feel better if I could see them."  
  
Gazing down at his watch, Darien tapped Bobby on the shoulder twice. The other man tensed and quickly gave Claire the same high-sign. The other two watched Darien count down on his fingers from five, then all three joined the rest of the strike group in hopping over the short wall and racing for the crumbling structure. As he flowed easily over the top of the brick barrier, Darien allowed the Quicksilver to flow over him and soon there was one less visible member of the team.  
  
When they reached the building, everyone else stopped and reoriented themselves before proceeding with the actual assault. Darien chose that moment to slip in on his own and check things out before a booby-trap hurt or killed somebody.  
  
"Fawkes! Damn it, Darien, you better not be in the building, hotshot...."  
  
"Chill out, Hobbes. You worry too much. I've already disabled three trip wires and gotten rid of a lot of junk an' trash you guys coulda broken your necks on. I found that by accident of course...."  
  
"Fawkes, when we get finished with this I'm gonna ring your scrawny neck, I swear...."  
  
"I skinned my knee and bruised up one hand. So what? No big deal. You still love me an' you know it. Now get in here, wouldya? It's startin' to look like this was a scam."  
  
As they cautiously entered the building, Bobby continued talking to Darien, hoping that keeping in constant touch would make the younger man more cognizant of what he was risking.  
  
"A scam? You didn't find any kids?"  
  
"Not on the first floor. I'm just hittin' the top of the stairs to the next level.... Oh, crap...."  
  
"Fawkes? Darien! Respond right now, damn it!"  
  
"Th... this is real bad, Hobbes. Keep everyone but Claire down there, okay? Just send her up here.... do it fast. This could go really, really wrong any second." Darien whispered, his voice trembling faintly.  
  
"Explain. What are you seein'?"  
  
"I can't! Move, Bobby! Please shut up an' just move!"  
  
"Okay, Fawkes. Hang on. We're on our way."  
  
"No, Bobby! I said.... damn him, just once can't he listen to me?!"  
  
Moments later, Hobbes was crouching on a step beside his now visible partner and Claire hovered a step or two below where them, unable to view the horror the other two were confronting. Only a few feet away from where the trio waited and agonized, nine children of varying ages stood in a loose circle, all patiently waiting for the child in the middle to make use of the handgun that currently rested at his side, tightly gripped in his left hand. Claire got a brief description of the scene and was suddenly grateful it was hidden for her sight.  
  
"Bobby, get the hell out of here!"  
  
"No freakin' way I'm leavin' you alone. Not the way you sounded a minute ago."  
  
Darien growled his frustration, then conceded that Hobbes wasn't going away.  
  
"What are we supposed to do? We can't just let this happen!" Darien murmured harshly, close to Bobby's ear.  
  
"I know... I... this isn't what we were told to expect. I'm not sure.... "  
  
"Well we better do something, damn it! I won't stay here and watch those kids be killed!"  
  
Peering over the top edge of the final step, Hobbes studied the scene before him, but could see no immediate way to resolve the situation without losing at least one child. Dimly, something one of his history teachers had drilled into him eons ago came drifting back to him.  
  
... sometimes, sacrifice is a necessary, even vital, part of life.... sacrifice for others, for the greater good, for an ideal..... your history books are filled with those who understood this principle...  
  
"Fawkes. Get downstairs an' give Bryson a message for me. Tell him I want this floor flooded with tear gas exactly in four minutes. Not one second more or less, you got it? On the tick of four minutes."  
  
"Bobby, no..."  
  
"Any other way at least one of those kids is gonna die! They still might.... Get the hell downstairs! I need you to do this for me, baby, alright? Go."  
  
Though his stomach had sunk through the floor beneath him, Darien complied with Bobby's order.  
  
"I don't have to ask what my job is." Claire commented darkly.  
  
"Good. I got no time to waste explainin' it to you." Bobby retorted as he rose, ascended the last step and slowly began to approach the children.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC........... 


	3. Stand By Me

A Wedding Song Chap. 3--- Stand By Me...  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Kid. Hey kid. Look at me. You gotta know we won't let this happen. There's no way in heaven or on earth we're gonna let you just murder your friends here."  
  
The boy in the center of the group slowly turned his eyes on Bobby, but the older man immediately wished he hadn't. The child's gaze was haunted and utterly empty.  
  
"This isn't murder. Survival of the fittest is the priority. Only those prepared and able to live in the world to come must be allowed to move forward into it. Mediocrity only perpetuates mediocrity. We die to make way for those who will rule the future."  
  
The lack of any emotion at all in the boy's voice told Hobbes that the speech was nothing but a set of words that had been repetitively burned into the child's impressionable mind until he didn't know what was true anymore.  
  
"Yeah. You recited that Chrysalis party line real nice, kid. Don't change anything. Still not gonna let you pull the trigger. Whatever sick garbage they stuffed in your head can be pulled back out. You can be normal, go to a real school.... live the life you should be livin'."  
  
"You'll never understand. There is no reason for us to live. We don't have a place in the future that Chrysalis will build. Our sacrifice is our gift to those who made us. It is necessary so that the plan can proceed the way the leaders have foreseen it."  
  
Trying hard not to make it obvious, Hobbes stole a look at his watch for a fraction of a second. Realizing that the planned tear gas assault was only seconds away, he steeled himself to deal with the effects of the chemical, knowing he would have to ignore his own pain in order to quickly and effectively disarm the boy.  
  
"That's a load of bull an' you know it, kiddo. They just don't want their mistakes around as reminders of how shot full a'holes their weird theories are. They're also cowards who can't stand the thought of gettin' their hands dirty so they're happy to let you off yourselves. I'm not a coward, kid. Crazy.... that's a definite maybe."  
  
"Your words mean nothing. You can't stop us. Today we die for the future. We die for the truth that is Chrysalis...."  
  
The child raised the weapon away from his side just as the tear gas canister rolled down the hall and stopped up against the ankle of one of the younger girls. The moment it began hissing out its heavy, stinging mist Bobby, went into action. Eyes watering and lungs protesting, he crashed through the group of children and tackled the boy with the pistol, making sure the muzzle remained pointed straight up until he was able to wrestle it out of the boy's hand.  
  
"Fawkes! The gun's secure! Get the other teams up here to grab the kids! Warn 'em they're gonna have a battle on their hands! They won't go easy...."  
  
Within an hour all the children had been dragged kicking and screaming out of the building to a spot where Claire waited with sedation. They were then packed into two trucks and driven away.  
  
"Where'll they go, Claire?" Darien asked, tension and sadness warring for control of his voice.  
  
"Ever since we learned what Chrysalis was doing with children, we've been setting up a state of the art deprogramming facility. It was finished two weeks ago.... just in time it seems." She replied, turning to face him as she spoke. The pain in his eyes prompted her to reach for his hand, eager to comfort him. "They'll be alright, Darien. We can save them..."  
  
"It's not alright, Claire. Stuff like this.... there's no way I can be objective about it anymore. Before Bobbi... I could've handled it without blinkin'. Not now. The last thing I want is to do this four more times... but none of us have a choice."  
  
Walking to where Bobby stood talking to a few various members of the other teams, Darien whispered in his ear briefly. Hobbes looked up and back at his partner, questioning with his eyes. Darien nodded and Bobby handed him the cell phone.  
  
"Yeah, it's me."  
  
"And sooner than I expected. The children?"  
  
"Claire says they'll be okay.... the ten we found, anyway."  
  
"Ten.... Chrysalis split them up."  
  
"Got it in one. Good for you. We need new intel as soon as you can get it to us. We've got four more locations to get to in the next.... forty- five hours." he reminded the Official.  
  
"Yes, well intelligence has become considerably more difficult to gather and distribute since you turned my assistant into a wet-nurse."  
  
"You've got Alex. Use her. You're probably the only guy in California who hasn't."  
  
"That was totally uncalled for, Fawkes."  
  
"Yeah, according to you maybe." Darien shot back just before he hit the end button and returned the phone to Hobbes.  
  
"Fawkes..."  
  
"I'm okay. I have to be okay. Once we find the other kids and make sure they're safe then I'll go home and I'll wrap my arms around Bobbi..... maybe even say a prayer if I remember how. For now, we have work to do."  
  
"Yeah. I guess so. When we do get home.... whatever you need for as long as you need it, right?"  
  
"Thanks. Just knowing you'll be there.... knowing I have somewhere to go with this.... that means everything to me. You mean everything to me...."  
  
Leaning close Bobby squeezed his fiancée's arm and spoke quietly.  
  
"It's gonna be okay, baby. I'll always be here. I love you." he whispered before turning away.  
  
Darien smiled grimly, shook his head a little and moved off to find Claire.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
7:00 THAT NIGHT  
  
"It's not enough, Hobbes. We only found half the kids that are left an' that took us all day....."  
  
"We still have tomorrow. We did all we can do for now. It's time to go home. We gotta eat, get some sleep..."  
  
"Sleep? How am I supposed to sleep? Those kids are still out there.... maybe they're already...."  
  
"Okay, stop. Enough, Darien. Don't take all this crap on your shoulders. Havin' the Q gland makes you special.... it don't make you superhuman. Let's just go home. By mornin' the fat man'll have the other two locations...."  
  
As Bobby spoke, Darien fully turned away from his own personal issues for the first time that day and really saw his partner; the gas-reddened eyes that still hadn't stopped tearing up hours after exposure, the strain clearly etched into the lines on his brow.  
  
"Bobby. I'm so sorry. The gas... I didn't realize how hard it hit you.... Claire!"  
  
"I'm okay, Fawkes. Don't bug her. She's as tired as we are..."  
  
"That stuff could cause problems with your eyes. I just wanna be sure, okay? Indulge me for once."  
  
"For once? I let you get away with murder an' you know it!"  
  
"What is it, Darien? Are you alright?" Claire asked as she approached.  
  
"Yeah, I am. Bobby's eyes look bad though. I thought you should check him over."  
  
Peering closely at Hobbes, Claire frowned.  
  
"You may be right about that. Nice catch, Darien. Both of you come with me over to the med unit. The light's much stronger there."  
  
"I don't need to be doctored, Claire. I got eye wash at home. I'll use it when I get there, if I ever do...."  
  
"It'll be another hour at least before you make it back to the apartment. It's already been four hours since you were exposed. Any longer without treatment and...."  
  
"Okay, Okay. I don't wanna know. Let's just get it over with." Bobby groused, slowly walking toward the small medical van that had followed them everywhere that day.  
  
"You too, Darien."  
  
"Me? What for? I told you I Quicksilvered my eyes when I took my turn with the teargas."  
  
"You know how much Bobby hates this kind of thing. You should give him your support."  
  
Darien shifted his eyes down guiltily.  
  
"Yeah, well I wasn't gonna walk off and leave him. I only meant..."  
  
"Besides, I want to check your blood pressure. It was a little high at your last check-up."  
  
"Crap. I knew it. I do have... planning to do, ya know! Important things on my mind! Who wouldn't be a little stressed out?" Darien shouted at Claire's retreating back. After a minute or so, he followed her, knowing he'd pay dearly later on if he blew her off.  
  
Half an hour later, both men had been poked and prodded to Claire's satisfaction and released to head home.  
  
"So... you're okay?"  
  
"Me? You were the one with the fire-engine red eyes. I should be askin' you."  
  
"I'm not talkin' about that. I meant... the kids. If you decided to stay home with Bobbi tomorrow, I'd understand."  
  
Darien chuckled softly.  
  
"I was just thinkin' the same thing about you. I mean, Claire said no more teargas work.... I figured you might wanna..."  
  
"No. No way. I started this, I'm not quittin' till every one a'those kids is safe."  
  
"Me either. Bobbi loves Eberts an' I know he'll protect her. It's just one more day. I'm seein' it through."  
  
"Man. Am I starved. Chinese take out on the way home? My treat."  
  
"Sounds like heaven, but we dutch it."  
  
"Deal."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC..... 


	4. One More Day With You

Wedding Song 4---- One More Day With You....  
  
One bad word In this piece.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((  
  
4:05 A.M.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Agent Hobbes? Agent Waters. I have your last two possible locations."  
  
"Yeah? Great. Give 'em to me." Bobby responded, fully awake now. He listened for a few additional minutes, scribbling quickly on the pad by the bedside phone, then hung up and turned over to rouse Darien, only to find his partner already awake.  
  
"We on?" Fawkes asked him wearily, his voice cracked and worn, making Bobby think of leather abandoned in the sun for too long.  
  
"Yeah. I've got the last two places here. He only said they were possibles this time, though, so we could be doin' this for nothin'. You sure you're up for this? You don't look so good."  
  
"Four an' a half hours of sleep don't turn you into Carmen Electra either, buddy."  
  
"I had four. You just had the half. If I tried to make you stay home...."  
  
"Don't think so. I'll go make some nuclear powered coffee."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
6:35 A.M.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Darien sat on the floor of the decrepit house, legs tucked under him, cradling and rocking a beautiful, sweet-faced little girl; one of two children they had not been in time to save. Every few seconds he bent to breathe for her, mumbling fractured prayers under his breath. Hobbes stood close, one hand on his partner's shoulder as he fought for words.  
  
"Fawkes... you can stop now. She's gone."  
  
"No! She has to breathe.... quit pullin' on me! I know CPR! I... I remember that class they made me take.... I can do this...."  
  
Kneeling beside his stricken friend, Bobby stroked his hair and spoke softly, knowing the truth he was trying to make Darien see was harsh and cruel and desiring more than anything to soften the blow however he could.  
  
"Darien.... CPR won't help her.... she's dead. She took a .45 slug right in the ticker. You can't bring her back from that, no matter what you do...."  
  
"I told you to drive faster! I told you I felt like somethin' was wrong! Five minutes sooner.... five damn, lousy minutes...."  
  
"I know, baby. You tried to tell me. I shoulda listened. Lemme see her, okay? I'll take good care of her, I promise....."  
  
"No! Give her back!"  
  
Finally wresting the dead child's body away from Darien, Bobby stood and gazed down into her face, tears welling in his eyes. Before he could lose control himself, he moved to lay her in the corner beside a little boy, also shot in the heart, and gently stretched the tarp that covered him over her as well. Fighting to remain in control, he moved to the front door of the house.  
  
"Claire? Can you.... we need you."  
  
"What is it? Are you alright? Is Darien?"  
  
"None of the above. Two of the kids.... a boy an' a girl. We were just that much too late. I just found him in there holdin' her.... tryin' to make her breathe again.... he's really upset."  
  
"You should be with him."  
  
"I can't. I had to tell him she was gone, take her away from him. He'd never let me...."  
  
"I see. Stay out here and try to calm down, okay? I'll talk to him."  
  
As Claire slipped inside to comfort Darien, Bobby leaned against the house, closed his eyes and drew deep, slow shuddery breaths, trying to pull himself together. It was a long time before he managed it.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((  
  
8:30 A.M.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Fawkes, cut it out. You're makin' me nuts.."  
  
"Bobby... take this with a grain of salt, but.... shut up."  
  
"Look, you can either chill out, or end up a forty-seven on this an' I'll send you home right now. You get my drift, pal?"  
  
"You wouldn't dare."  
  
"If you were standin' here, lookin' at yourself, you'd know I could an' would dare."  
  
"You need me."  
  
"I need the partner I depend on to watch my back, not the basket-case you're lettin' yourself turn into. You're shiverin' all over, your eyes are flickin' back an' forth like you're watchin' tennis, you can't stand still.... If I didn't know better, I'd think you were gettin' ready to go QSM on somebody."  
  
"Yeah, well, I would.... but he's not here."  
  
"I want Stark as bad as you do, but these kids ain't him. Unless you show me some improvement in the next five minutes, you're out."  
  
"I have to do this, Bobby. You can't make me stay back here... I won't lose another one of these kids. No freakin *way* am I losin' even *one* more!" Darien snarled, slamming one hand down onto the hood of a nearby car with enough force to dent it and walking away from his partner.  
  
Bobby stalked after Darien, hauled him around by one arm then shoved him into a sitting position on the damaged car. Grasping Darien's face with both hands, Hobbes forced his manic friend to look directly into his eyes.  
  
"Stop, okay? You have to stop. I'm here, baby. I'm right here. Are you seein' me. Darien? Are you listenin' to me?"  
  
"Bobby.... let go."  
  
"Not until I finish. I gotta know you understand. What happened at the first house this mornin' was not your fault. Those two kids dyin' ain't what any of us wanted, but noone, not you, not me, an' not any of the other guys coulda stopped it from happenin'. We were just a couple minutes too late. I know it hurts. I get that. You feel like shit an' so do I.... but right now your eyes tell me you're standin' with one foot already off the edge of the cliff. I really need you to come back to me, here, Fawkes."  
  
"I can't. You don't know what I saw...."  
  
"Later. Tell me what forty-seven means."  
  
"You're the senior agent. You recite the stupid rules...."  
  
"I'm orderin' you to tell me. You do it, or I'll put it in play. You know I don't bluff."  
  
"Forty-seven.... is the code for an agent who's temporarily unfit for duty.... because of severe mental or emotional disturbance."  
  
"Good boy. You really *wanna* get cuffed to the armrest of the car for the next three hours? Maybe get forced into a MAN-EV when we get back? The fat man'd laugh himself sick while he signed that order. I've been through a hundred Mandatory Evaluations, Fawkes. They suck to take an' they never come out in favor of the one under the microscope. It'd kill me to see you have to go through that. Can you pull yourself together?"  
  
"I can try.... I'm sorry. I just can't stop seein' it...."  
  
"I know." Bobby reassured him, embracing him tightly. "We'll do the Serious Discussion thing when we get home, okay? For now we got kids to...."  
  
Somewhere in the abandoned building behind them a shot rang out, shocking Bobby into abandoning his thought. "Ah crap... not again...."  
  
Between one second and the next, Darien Quicksilvered and was gone from Bobby's arms. "Fawkes! God, no.... Damn it, Darien, stop!"  
  
"I heard the shot. What happened?" Claire asked as she ran up.  
  
"Fawkes went see-through an' took off for the warehouse! Stupid idiot.... if he gets his head blown off I'm never speakin' to him again!" Hobbes growled as he ripped his walkie-talkie off his waist. As he ran, he began screaming orders into the small device. " Blue and Red squads, this is X-wing leader! Go, go, go! Do it now! This should be hostage retrieval only. I repeat, should be, so cover your asses! Agent Fawkes is already inside. Watch your line of fire! Talk before you shoot! Gold squad, hang back to assist with extraction."  
  
Once inside the building, Bobby tried to raise Darien on the radio, but could get no response. When another shot reached his ears, he began to alternate between brief periods of feeling as if his heart had stopped beating and strings of seconds when it beat so furiously he was sure it would burst from his chest. After his next message, Darien finally responded.  
  
"Darien! Damn it, if you're not dead already, I swear I'm gonna strangle you...."  
  
"Nice sentiment. Think they'd take us on 'Celebrity Death Match' ?"  
  
"You stupid son of a.... don't you move, you hear me? I'm on my way..."  
  
Three long minutes later, Bobby finally came upon Darien propped against a wall, left hand clasped over his bleeding right bicep. A few feet beyond where he sat, agents carried struggling children away and two dark gray tarps covered a pair of small, still shapes. Tearing his gaze away from the evidence of another Chrysalis victory, Bobby focused, instead, on his fiancée. "I knew it... how bad is it?" he groaned, rushing to Darien's side.  
  
"I'm okay. It's just a little graze."  
  
"Yeah, little grazes hurt like hell. Lemme see." he ordered, carefully peeling Darien's fingers away from the wound. "You're right. Not too nasty."  
  
Raising his radio again, he called for help, the relief in his voice clear, even through the static. "Claire? G.I. Oh No needs a little help if you got a minute?"  
  
"Should I have expected any less? What happened?"  
  
"The shooter winged him. It's not serious, but it'll need cleanin' and a bandage. We'll meet you downstairs, okay?"  
  
"Right."  
  
Replacing his radio, Bobby gently tore the rest of the ruined sleeve from Darien's shirt, folded it and used it to apply pressure to the weeping scrape, determinedly not looking at the shrouded bodies against the far wall.  
  
"So... what was this, huh? Revenge for what I pulled in Vegas?" he asked solemnly, gazing up into Darien's dark eyes.  
  
"Everything has to be about you?"  
  
"I didn't say that..."  
  
"Lets just go, okay? I can't stand to be so close to them...."  
  
"Yeah. Good idea." he agreed, guiding his partner down the hall, a hand on his good arm.  
  
"Just so you know.... you don't have to put me in for a MAN-EV. I'll... take care of it myself."  
  
"Don't do that. Like I said, it isn't worth it..."  
  
"I didn't mean that exactly. I meant... I know I need to do somethin' about the way I reacted today. I scared myself... really bad. Your shrink..... What was her name?"  
  
"Cheryl Mason."  
  
"Maybe.... maybe I could... talk to her. Just once.... or twice. Until I work through this. I don't wanna be goin' off my nut every time a case involves a kid..." Darien lied smoothly, hoping the edge of pain in his voice would cover the tell-tale signs of deception that Bobby usually picked up on without fail.  
  
"Sure. Sure, I'll call her when we get home. See when she's got free time."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC....... 


	5. Wind Beneath My Wings

Wedding Song 5:  
  
(((((((((((((((((((  
  
TWO DAYS LATER  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Bobby awoke suddenly in the very early darkness of Monday morning, missing Darien's presence. Vainly, he ran a hand over the sheets in front of him, but found only dying warmth and empty space.  
  
"Damn it, Fawkes.... not again....." he groaned quietly, conscious of Bobbi sleeping only a few feet away. He wished he could have remained asleep as well, blissfully unaware of her mother's recent middle of the night departures, but the bond he and Darien shared was too tightly woven for that. If one sent a distress call, whether verbalized or silent, the other received and responded. Sitting up, Bobby swung his legs out of bed, pushed his feet into his slippers and went in search of his wayward partner for the third morning in a row.  
  
He found him in the same place and the same position he had occupied on Saturday and Sunday morning; on his side, curled into a fetal ball and backed tightly into the juncture of two walls in the living room. Two of the heavy chairs that normally faced the coffee table were placed side by side in front of a contentedly sleeping Darien, as if he'd felt a need for a protective barrier. From what, Bobby was too tired to even begin to guess.  
  
Sighing sadly, Bobby carefully moved the chairs back to their proper position, crouched down beside his fiancée and began to talk to him gently. "Darien. Hey, wake up, kid. C'mon, babe.... wake up. Darien, wake up."  
  
Slowly, the other's eyelashes began to flicker and he grudgingly began to awaken.  
  
"Bobby? Wha' time s'it?"  
  
"A little past three a.m."  
  
"Damn... I got the week off, remember? What the hell're you wakin' me up for?"  
  
"You woke me up, oh sleepwalkin' love a'mine."  
  
"I what..... oh, God.... where am I?"  
  
"In the livin' room, like before. Your side of the bed was still a little warm, so I don't think you were gone too long. It's okay. You're safe. C'mon." he offered, extending a hand to help Darien to his feet. The hand was accepted and Darien was soon moving stiffly back toward the bedroom with Bobby's arm around his waist in support. Halfway there, a severe cramp struck his calf and he cried out. "What?"  
  
"Charley horse! Couch, quick!"  
  
"Nah, nah, nah. I got a better way. Sit on the floor... now lay back. Stretch out. Right." Once Darien had obeyed, Hobbes continued his instruction. "Which leg? Left? Gimme that foot. Bend the knee.... that's right. Put your foot flat on my leg.... good. Okay. Just try an' relax. Close your eyes.... breathe easy.... atta' boy. That's the way. Relax."  
  
For several minutes, Hobbes massaged the knotted muscles of Darien's lower leg until the spasms eased and the pain melted away. Once he could clearly see in Darien's face that the cramp was gone, Bobby cautiously helped the other man to his feet again.  
  
"Damn. That really worked. Is that an army trick or somethin'?"  
  
"Kinda, yeah. That's where I met the guy who taught it to me. You ready to go back to bed?"  
  
"I guess.... I really am sorry, Hobbes."  
  
"I know, kid. It ain't your fault. I understand that."  
  
"Wish I did. I'm not havin' nightmares.... none that I remember anyhow. I don't even have weird dreams anymore."  
  
"You ain't stopped dreamin' completely have ya?"  
  
"No. It's just now they're all kinda.... hazy and vague. Nothin' much to 'em really. Why?"  
  
"Just somethin' the doc told me about dreams bein' important when you're not asleep. Dreams are the way our brains pull the day apart an' put it back together. If you stop dreamin' it's like... your CPU power source fried. The hard drive's solid, but the part that lets you work with the info an' make sense of it is toast. When that happens in your head....."  
  
"You flip a circuit breaker?"  
  
"Pretty much. 'Till somebody fixes the CPU." Hobbes finished as Darien slid back between the covers. Bobby moved around the bed to his side and joined him, wrapping an arm defensively around the other man. "Stay here, huh? Stay with me. You don't need to hide behind chairs. I'll protect you...."  
  
"I wanna stay..... I don't know I'm doing it. Right up 'till the moment you wake me up, I think I'm still in bed...."  
  
"It's okay. You got your first appointment with Doc Mason today. She knows her stuff.... she'll help you figure this out."  
  
"God, I hope so."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THAT AFTERNOON  
  
"Darien. Come right in. It's so good to finally meet you. I already feel as if I've known you for years."  
  
"Hi. Good to meet you too... I think. Don't take that wrong, I just meant.... forget it. I'm.... really tired."  
  
"I see that. Have a seat and let's get started."  
  
Darien moved cautiously into the large room and perched tensely on the edge of a chair. The doctor settled easily into a chair just in front of her desk and reached behind her for a notebook and pen. "I understand exactly what you were trying to say a minute ago. Therapy can be intimidating to think about, never mind pursue. Have you ever had counseling before?"  
  
"Yeah.... a million years ago. Not that I had a choice about it...."  
  
"School or prison?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"You think you know the basic process?"  
  
"You ask questions I don't wanna answer, I get pissed, you get disappointed *and* pissed, I leave an' never come back."  
  
Cheryl laughed softly, surprising Darien.  
  
"I hope it won't turn out that way. Educational and prison counselors, that's a whole different ballpark from what I do here. Their caseloads are unimaginable, they have no time to really give any individual attention to the people they see and unfortunately a lot of them end up burned out and in therapy themselves."  
  
"Okay.... so no questions. That's good. Stops the whole angst train before it even gets started."  
  
"I never said that." Cheryl retorted, jotting quickly in her book. "You should be proud of yourself, you know. I am and I'm sure Bobby is too."  
  
"Me? For what?" Darien replied, sadness and anger just barely coloring his voice at the edges.  
  
"First you should know that Bobby told me nothing about the details of what happened on Friday because I wouldn't let him. If I hear about that day, I want it to be from you. All I'm aware of is that you've suffered a significant trauma and that's it's affecting you very deeply. Second, you have a lot to be proud of. You were able to acknowledge that, whatever this is, you couldn't handle it alone and you weren't afraid to reach out to someone close to you and ask for help. I'm here to offer you that help."  
  
"And what if I'm not strong enough to do this?"  
  
"You've taken the first couple of steps all by yourself. I'd say that shows a great deal of strength and courage."  
  
"We'll see. So... how do we start?"  
  
"We already have, but as an official beginning point, why don't you tell me what you can about yourself? Anything that's not classified, of course."  
  
"Sounds like a game show. 'I'm Marlene, I'm from Pomona, I'm a stay at home mom with two wonderful children and a great husband.' "  
  
"Something like that yes." the doctor replied, chuckling. "Well, now I know you have a wicked sense of humor. What else is there to know? Any family in the area?"  
  
"No. Not close anyway. My grandma's up north.... mom's around somewhere. My aunt an' uncle are probably still kickin' up dust in So Cal."  
  
"You didn't mention your dad."  
  
"Yeah, it's not that I don't care, I just haven't seen 'em in a while. I'm tryin' to focus on now. The Bobs mean everything to me. My present an' my future are more important." Darien went on as if she had never asked about his father at all.  
  
"I get it. Dad is off limits."  
  
"In the extreme."  
  
"For the moment." Cheryl tossed back lightly. "Let's talk about Bobby and your daughter."  
  
"That.... I can spend all day on." Darien responded, the light of excitement in his eyes spreading to his entire face.  
  
"So can he. He'd talk about nothing else if I let him."  
  
"Yeah? That's cool." he said, dipping his head as if suddenly shy and grinning ear to ear.  
  
"You weren't sure how he felt?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, no! I know he loves me. No ifs, ands or buts, Bobby Hobbes loves me. It's just.... it's cool to hear that he's so stoked about havin' me in his life. It hasn't been easy for him. He had a lotta stuff to get through before he could even say the words. Now... he tells me he loves me every day."  
  
"Do you feel like that will ever get to be routine, just something you say because it's expected?"  
  
Darien considered this question silently for a little while then gave the doctor an answer she wasn't expecting.  
  
"You married, doc?"  
  
"Yes. As you say, 'to a wonderful husband.' Not in Pomona, but still...."  
  
"Is he the one? The it that.... fills up the empty? I guess what I'm askin'.... is are you soul mates? Did you know the minute you saw him..... in the pit of your stomach an' on the back of your neck an' in the tips of your fingers an' toes..... did you know?"  
  
Stunned by the accuracy and beauty of his words, Cheryl sat stunned for a long moment before she was able to respond.  
  
"Incredible..... yes, if that's the definition.... I think he is."  
  
"Then you know. Laundry is routine. Puttin' up storm windows is routine. Makin' breakfast.... is routine. Hearing the person you belong with, the one you'd rather die than lose, hearing them say I love you is about as far from routine as it gets."  
  
"You're absolutely right. Well... that kills my next two or three questions. I don't have to ask if you think you know what love is or how you know you're in love. Let's move right on to your little girl, shall we?"  
  
"Great idea. Let's."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THAT EVENING  
  
"Grip it tighter or it'll never do what you want. Move your left hand up a little. There. Better. Now head down..... concentrate. Come back nice an' easy... not too far.... an' stroke."  
  
Despite following instructions, the garishly colored ball rebounded off the wooden structure several feet in front of Darien and rolled back slowly to rest at his feet.  
  
"Crap."  
  
"That wasn't so bad. Give it another shot."  
  
"Forget it, okay? I told you I don't play mini-golf, Hobbes. I'm not exactly a sports kinda guy."  
  
"It's not a sport. Don't take it so serious. We're here to relax, remember? Just hit the ball."  
  
"Relax.... how am I supposed to relax? That stupid windmill's laughin' at me, I know it...." Darien groused, addressing the ball once again.  
  
"This time watch the blades for a minute. Get your timin' right."  
  
Darien gazed at the slowly spinning rectangles for a few seconds until he thought he had it down then hit the ball again. His second attempt sailed straight through the opening without a problem. "See? Told ya. Nice shot, buddy."  
  
Grinning slightly in amazement, Darien stepped aside to let Bobby hit. When his ball too had vanished into windmill limbo, the pair strolled to the green side of the hole together.  
  
"Thanks for this, Bobby. I really did need to wind down. Maybe I'll stay in bed tonight instead of playin' hide an' go to sleep at two a.m."  
  
"That first appointment's a regular stress-fest, ain't it?"  
  
"Yeah, at first. I like her though. She's pretty cool. I think maybe she can get me through this."  
  
"I know she can. You're closer to the hole. You go first."  
  
Darien planted his feet, looked from the hole and back to his ball a few times to make sure he was aligned correctly then gently tapped the ball with his putter. To his shock, it headed directly for the white plastic cup sunk into the astro-turf, circled the rim once and dropped in. Bobby high- fived him excitedly. "Way to go, partner! I knew you'd be good at this."  
  
"It went in. It actually went in!"  
  
"It damn sure did. Ready for the next one? They get harder as we go."  
  
"Oh, I'm more than ready. How about a bet? High score buys the Chinese take- out?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. This ain't the Masters an' you ain't Tiger Woods. Let's see how you handle the waterfall, my friend...."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	6. Help

Wedding Song 6: Help.....  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TUESDAY  
  
" 'Course I don't mind. If it's helpin' him, I'm all for it."  
  
"Then why are you moping around my lab? I swear I can feel heavy, black rain clouds hovering ominously near the ceiling."  
  
"Hey, fine. I'll go back up to my office...."  
  
"Bobby, wait. I didn't mean you should leave. I was only trying...."  
  
"To get me to talk. I know. Sorry. I miss him bein' here to go to lunch with, I guess."  
  
"You have the week off too, you know. You could be with him."  
  
"He asked me not to. Said he had to do this on his own. I'm just glad he's doin' it at all. Things around home.... they're gettin' a little bizarre.... scary too."  
  
"I sensed you were worried about him. Feel like telling me about it?"  
  
Thumping down onto the edge of the admin. chair, Bobby began to relate Darien's sleepwalking routine.  
  
"I just hope he can figure out what it is he's hidin' from. It hurts me to see him this messed up. Besides, he's stealin' my thunder. Bein' the cuckoo-bird in the family's supposed to be my job."  
  
"Bobby, stop that." Claire gently reprimanded him.  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
"That's not the worst of it, is it? I can see in your face there's something else."  
  
"It's not worse. It just.... I guess you'd call it disturbin'. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know...."  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"Since Friday.... he hasn't held Bobbi once. It's like.... he can't. He won't pick her up... or even touch her. The poor kid.... she knows somethin's not right an' I can tell it's got her all in knots. She only took half a bottle from me this mornin'. She can usually down a full eight ounces an' be beggin' for more."  
  
"Do you think he's really cut off all communication with her?"  
  
"Seems that way."  
  
"I suppose.... after having that little girl practically die in his arms.... being forced to acknowledge that he couldn't save her...."  
  
"Yeah. I thought about that. I really hope Doc Mason pushes like I know she can an' gets him to cough up the crud he's holdin' onto. Maybe then things'll turn back in the right direction...."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
CHERYL MASON'S OFFICE  
  
"Come on in. Have a seat before you fall down."  
  
"I'm okay. Just tired." Darien grunted as he dropped wearily back into the chair he'd occupied the day before.  
  
"Yesterday, tired might have cut it, but not today. Today is total exhaustion, bordering on collapse. What's going on, Darien? Are you having trouble sleeping?"  
  
"Oh, no, I sleep alright. It's *where* I sleep that's the problem." Darien mumbled.  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"Nothin'. Everything's fine, really. Can we talk about somethin' else?"  
  
"Think again. What's going on, Darien?"  
  
"I'll handle it myself. Don't sweat it, okay?"  
  
"So there is something. You know I'll hear about it from Bobby on Friday."  
  
Darien rolled his eyes slightly and grimaced. "You promised him you'd tell me, didn't you?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"So? Let's hear it."  
  
"It's embarrassing..... I can't."  
  
"I don't mind. I've heard the worst things you can imagine. Embarrassing stories are the least of it. Go on."  
  
"Ever since Friday.... I've been sleepwalkin'.... every night. It.... it makes me feel like a little kid. Worse, it makes me think I'll never be in control again."  
  
"When did you lose control?"  
  
Darien gave her a solemn look that said he knew exactly where she was going with that question, but he wasn't yet ready to follow. "I understand. Back to the sleepwalking, hmm? Tell me more."  
  
"It's been happenin' in the early mornings, two, three o'clock. I get outta bed, walk into the living room, line up two chairs in front of the corner then curl up on the floor behind 'em an' go back to sleep."  
  
"Back to sleep."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I said, back to.... oh. Right. I didn't mean that."  
  
"What did you mean?"  
  
"I don't know. You... nobody can go back to sleep if they're already sleepwalkin'. So... maybe that's not what I'm doin'? I mean... I'm not up on the latest psychology stuff, but...."  
  
"No, I think it's quite likely you are sleepwalking. Let's back up a little. Do you remember what you were dreaming this morning?"  
  
"Nah. Lately my dreams are fuzzy.... hazy, like I'm seein' all the action through one of those.... gauzy curtains? I know they're not scary or weird, but that's about all I know."  
  
"How about the other end? How do you feel when you wake up?"  
  
"Confused. I always think I'm still in bed. Bobby usually comes an' wakes me up, gets me back. We have this... connection that sorta sets off an alarm in him when I'm not.... in bed.... damn. That sounds like we're.... we're really not..."  
  
"It's okay. I know. Bobby explained."  
  
"Oh. Good. I mean... we are gettin' married. There is that... element to it, but it's not.... we just aren't....."  
  
"He explained that too."  
  
'Better than I did I hope."  
  
"A little. His description of your first kiss made me want to cry.... and then go find my husband, drag him home and lock the doors behind us for a couple days."  
  
Darien grinned hugely, then turned his head away.  
  
"He has that effect on me too."  
  
"I see that. So, he helps you back to bed. Do you fall asleep again easily, or do you struggle with it?"  
  
"It depends. A couple times it was close to dawn before he came for me. Too much light makes it hard to drift off again. If it's still dark, I can usually get back to sleep."  
  
"Do you have any idea, even a vague notion, about what you might be hiding from behind those chairs?"  
  
"No. Not a damn one."  
  
"You're obviously trying to shield yourself from something."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Could it have something to do with what happened Friday?"  
  
"I don't think so..... I'm usually pretty good at cleanin' my own closet, ya know, but not this time. I just don't know enough about sleepwalkin' to make sense of the why's an' the how's."  
  
"I think I can help with that. The first thing you need to know is that sleepwalking is one form of what's called a dissociative state. That means your subconscious disconnects from the control center for a short while. Because of the temporary short circuit, the conscious mind doesn't encode any memories of what you do when you're sleepwalking. As far as it's concerned, you never left the bedroom. "  
  
"But.... it's not like I'm breakin' stuff or wanderin' the neighborhood in my boxers...."  
  
"Hollywood myth. Sleepwalkers have been known to perform some fairly complicated tasks, though. Cooking, pouring liquid into a glass without spilling a drop, lighting a cigarette, even driving. They've all been documented by doctors and researchers. I'll admit, what you seem compelled to do isn't that out there, but it does concern me."  
  
"So how do I stop it?"  
  
"You said this didn't start until early Saturday morning, so.... despite what you may want to believe, I think this hiding routine is definitely connected with Friday. We need to get that out into the open. I'd be willing to bet that your dreams may even become clearer once you start talking about what you went through."  
  
"No. No way. I'm not ready..." Darien insisted vehemently. Pulling his legs up into the chair, he wrapped his arms around his bent knees and dropped his face down, effectively making a compact package out of his long body.  
  
"What happened to you that morning, Darien? What is it that you can't bear to look at? What are you hiding from?" Cheryl encouraged, moving to crouch close by his chair.  
  
"I can't, okay? I just can't.... stop it...."  
  
"You can. This is what you came here for, right? To get help, to tell someone what happened? I can help, Darien. I really can, but you have to make a beginning. Right now you're the only one who knows this secret, but it doesn't have to stay that way. Don't try to carry this alone....."  
  
Abruptly, Darien dropped his feet back to the floor, pushed out of the chair and strode toward the door.  
  
"Who *should* be carryin' this, huh? You think I'm gonna dump this on Bobby? It's mine, don't you get that?! My mad, my guilt, mine! I can't just give that up to anybody else!" he cried, angrily swiping tears off his face with one hand as he backed out of the office. "Not yet.... " he added more quietly, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his light jacket and turning to leave.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Darien."  
  
"Maybe, maybe not." He replied, his voice fading as he moved away.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Darien." Cheryl repeated.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
LATE THAT AFTERNOON  
  
Tucked into a secluded corner of the local botanical garden, Darien and Bobby sat quietly facing each other, holding hands and meditating. The original plan had been to grab something to eat then go bowling, but Darien's obvious agitation when Bobby picked him up had changed everything.  
  
Gradually, Bobby pulled away from the peaceful silence in his head and returned to the world. Over the course of the next few minutes, he tuned back in to the sounds of birds chirruping back and forth to one another and occasional breezes urging the leaves above and around him into motion. Only then did he open his eyes to discover the sun was nearly below the horizon. Slowly, he dropped Darien's left hand and reached across to stroke his fiancée's cheek.  
  
"Darien. Hey, you in there, babe?"  
  
"I'm here."  
  
"Now for the really important question. You okay?"  
  
There was a long pause before Darien responded.  
  
"Better."  
  
"You wanna tell me?"  
  
"She pushed, I pushed back. It didn't end well."  
  
"I thought maybe..... She knows you only gave yourself five sessions to get this worked out. Time pressure like that.... she's gonna push a little."  
  
"I know. It's just.... too soon."  
  
"What did she have to say about the sleepwalkin'?"  
  
"A lot of stuff. It happens 'cause my subconscious is short circuiting, she said. That's why I don't remember. She thinks I'm hidin' from what I saw Friday..... that maybe when I can talk about everything, my dreams'll even go back to normal."  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
Darien paused again, but not for such a long stretch.  
  
"Not sure. I as much as told her I didn't know if I was comin' back tomorrow, but..... I have to. I know that. I know I have to tell her.... about the kids.... about all of it.... but it's gonna hurt...."  
  
"It couldn't hurt any worse than keepin' it in here an' lettin' it chew you up...." he said, laying one hand over Darien's heart. The other pressed his own hand over Bobby's.  
  
"You're probably right.... God, I really hope you're right. I'm starved all of a sudden. Time to go get that delayed dinner?"  
  
"Absotively, posolutely." Bobby laughed, visibly relieved that Darien was now expressing hunger instead of anger and frustration. The younger man helped him onto his feet and they walked hand in hand to where their fairly new SUV was parked. "I still can't believe Eberts managed to cadge this for us. It's actually decent transport."  
  
"It's not Golda though." Darien replied, his tone almost wistful.  
  
Halfway into the driver's seat, Bobby halted in mid-motion and craned his neck back to stare in astonishment at his partner.  
  
"You hated Golda."  
  
"I never said that! Maybe at first we didn't get along, but she really grew on me. I never once said I hated her." Darien retorted, moving to the passenger's side and climbing in.  
  
"You put her down every chance you got."  
  
"That was just how our relationship was. She knew I didn't mean it. Me an' the old girl.... we understood each other."  
  
"You can put together a bigger load a'crap than ten pig farmers, you know that, Fawkes? An' faster too."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"You heard me loud an' clear, my friend. You an' my Golda *never* had a understandin'. I took care of her, I fed her an' kept water in her radiator, I changed her oil..... I touched her *soul*!"  
  
"Okay. Sure you did, Bobby."  
  
"See? You're mockin' her right now! Speakin' ill a'the dead.... that's low even for you, Fawkes...."  
  
"I'm not mocking *her*, Hobbes, I'm mocking *you*. Keep your eyes on the road, would you please....."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	7. A Work In Progress

Wedding Song 7: A Work In Progress....  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
WEDNESDAY MORNING  
  
Standing at the window of Bobby's office, Darien stared out at a bright sunny morning, wishing sadly for the easy joy with which he'd once seen the world. As he and Eberts talked, Darien cast occasional glances back at his daughter's godfather, who sat in a newly purchased rocking chair feeding the little girl who had become the absolute light of his life  
  
"Rings? Nah. Well....You really think so, Ebes? I don't know...."  
  
"It is just my opinion, of course.... but rings would seem to be essential. They're such an important symbol." Eberts offered, urging Bobbi to finish the last ounce or so of milk in her morning bottle.  
  
"To the world maybe. Bobby an' I know how we feel about each other. What do we have to prove to anyone else?"  
  
"It isn't about proving anything, per se. It's about the promises you'll make to Bobby and the promises he'll make to you. It's about a circle.... a commitment that never ends."  
  
A thought struck Eberts suddenly, one he disliked the feel of, and he voiced it reluctantly and as gently as he could. "Darien. Could it be that.... perhaps you're afraid a ring *would* be a symbol to the world? Something that would induce others to ask questions or start conversations you aren't sure you're prepared to deal with?"  
  
Darien immediately flushed a deep crimson and turned his eyes downward. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion.  
  
"I'm not ashamed of Bobby.... not of him an' not of how much we love each other. It's.... all this is new to me.... strange. I'm still gettin' used to the fact that I can really trust anybody. You, Claire, Hobbes.... you're safe. It's easy to talk about hard stuff when I feel safe. If some stranger sees my ring an' asks.... what if I don't know what to say?"  
  
"You did mean it when you said you aren't ashamed?" Eberts asked as he set the bottle aside and lifted Bobbi up to his shoulder to burp her.  
  
"Absolutely. That would mean bein' embarrassed about Bobbi Claire. She did nothin' to deserve that."  
  
"Well then. I think your answer, as overly simplistic as it may sound, is to tell the truth, always, and 'let the chips fall where they will' I believe is the phrase. Whether a stranger accepts you and your marriage or judges you harshly and unfairly is on their own heads, Darien. Let them settle accounts with their consciences or not. It isn't up to you to change what the ignorant, uninformed portion of the world's population believes. You have your own life to lead and your own problems to solve. If someone doesn't understand.... they don't. That doesn't mean you necessarily have to run into the streets and announce the date of your ceremony at the top of your lungs...."  
  
"I get that." Darien laughed quietly. "I still need to think about this, I guess. I'm gonna take everything you said into consideration, I swear. This is just really.... tough."  
  
"I know it is. If I might suggest consulting Robert? He's sure to be thinking about this as well."  
  
"Yeah... not right now. Bobby's got so much to deal with at the moment..... what happened Friday on top of what he always has to face...... You know."  
  
"I do. I'd be perfectly willing to listen if you feel..."  
  
"I would, it's just..... the doc comes first, 'cause I need her to help me deal with it. Then I'll tell Bobby, 'cause.... he was there. Anybody else....."  
  
"Of course. If either of you...."  
  
"Yeah. Thanks."  
  
"Oh my. It's nearly eleven-thirty. If you're going to make your therapy appointment you should be going."  
  
"I guess so." Darien agreed, but he stayed at the window.  
  
"It's getting difficult?"  
  
"Difficult..... you could say that. Did Claire or Bobby....."  
  
"They haven't told me anything but basic details. Robert said if and when you were ready you'd tell me."  
  
"I will. I promise."  
  
Eberts rose and moved to stand beside Darien, offering Bobbi to him. To his shock, Darien backed away, his expression one of barely controlled panic.  
  
"Darien....."  
  
"Like you said, I gotta go. I'll see you at the house tonight, okay?"  
  
"Wait. What's going on?"  
  
"I can't. Tonight...." Darien mumbled, turning and escaping from the office.  
  
Even before her mother made it all the way out the door, Bobbi began to whimper softly, wriggling and fighting Eberts' hold on her, strongly conveying her 'put me down now' message even without a mind to mind link. Gently, Eberts began to pat her back and soothe her as best he could.  
  
"I'm sorry, Roberta. Shhh. I know you don't understand. Neither do I. Your mother loves you, little one. He's just very upset right now. Everything will be alright soon, I promise...."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Darien. I'm so glad to see you. I'm pleased you decided to come back."  
  
"Not much choice." he replied, ambling into the office and dropping into the same chair he'd occupied on the previous two days.  
  
"Of course there is. There's always a choice."  
  
"Not this time. I...I can't keep doin' this. I'm gonna really lose it if...."  
  
"If what?"  
  
"My baby's godfather tried to hand her to me this mornin'.... I freaked. I freaked.... an' I ran away..... from my own child...."  
  
"Do you know why you did that?"  
  
"I was terrified. I've *been* terrified since Friday. That was the last time I held her...."  
  
"Friday morning?"  
  
Darien nodded, pulling his legs into the chair and his knees to his chest exactly as he had yesterday. This time, however, his head stayed up.  
  
"You're shielding again."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're shielding. Pulling into yourself like that, it's a defensive posture. What are you defending against, Darien?"  
  
"Everything. Just.... everything."  
  
"Tell me one thing. Just one to start with. You don't have to do it all at once. One baby step at a time."  
  
"I'm afraid of her.... what kind of parent is afraid of his own daughter?"  
  
"What about Roberta Claire suddenly makes you afraid?"  
  
"Maybe.... it's not really her. It's me. It's the pictures in my head.... from that day....."  
  
"Pictures of what?"  
  
"Horror movie stuff... except it was real. All of it was real.... but I don't want it to be. I keep thinkin'.... if I touch her she'll know..... I can't let that happen."  
  
"What will she know?"  
  
"What I am.... what I saw."  
  
"Are you ready to tell me a little bit about that day; what you saw, what you felt?"  
  
"No.... can't you just..... make it go away? Make it leave me alone...."  
  
"Sorry but it doesn't work that way. Only you have the solution to this."  
  
"If I start talkin'... I may not be able to stop."  
  
"Would that be such a bad thing?"  
  
Darien produced a short humorless laugh and looked at the wall.  
  
"I've been in prison, lady. You know, prison? Hardcore, lowest common denominator, don't drop the soap or you'll find out why? There are things noone should have to hear."  
  
"I've counseled parolees for eight years. I think I've pretty much heard everything."  
  
"That's them. I'm me an' I don't think about that anymore."  
  
"You did bring it up."  
  
"Only as an example.... look, can we drop this?"  
  
"Fine with me. Shall we get back to Friday, then?"  
  
Darien lapsed into sullen silence and continued to study the wall. "Guess not. You gave yourself a week to figure this out. An hour a day for five days. You're already on day three and that's.... fifteen minutes gone." she told him, consulting her watch. "I get the sense you were expecting instant answers when you came here. Poof, you're happy, abracadabra, everything's wonderful. I'm not Harry Potter, Darien. I can't recite some obscure Latin and make everything okay. The only magic words that work in here are the ones you've locked up inside you, the ones you're struggling so hard not to say."  
  
"I don't know how...."  
  
"Like I said, one baby step at a time. We'll work with simple questions at first. Why were you in the situation?"  
  
"How much has Bobby told you... about what we do, I mean?"  
  
"Nothing classified. I know you both work for the government."  
  
"Yeah, well.... this..... we were on assignment Friday, but it really started the day before. It was goin' so well. In my wildest nightmares I never thought....."  
  
"Something went very wrong didn't it?"  
  
"Oh, yeah.... in spades. Wrong isn't even..."  
  
Darien paused then abruptly began to backpedal. "No. I can't do this.... I tried, okay? I tried, but I can't go through it again.... I won't...."  
  
"You haven't *stopped* going through it since it happened. I won't judge you, Darien. That's not my job. I'm here to listen and give you feedback. That's all."  
  
"Somebody should...."  
  
"Should what? Judge you?"  
  
"I wish..... what were we talkin' about?"  
  
Despite a distinct feeling that something vital had been deliberately glossed over, Cheryl merely noted Darien's evasion in her book and let it go, knowing they'd come back to it eventually.  
  
"You were talking about the assignment. You're doing really well, Darien. This is more than you've managed in two days. Keep going."  
  
"Wednesday.... they told us about this.... cult." Darien began, adjusting the real story as he went so as to conceal any classified details. "They.... they've been around for a long time, I guess.... but nobody ever got close enough to get anything on 'em."  
  
"Religious?"  
  
"No. It sounds weird I know, but their religon is sci-tech. They think they can.... breed the perfect kid."  
  
"It sounds like a neo-Nazi offshoot."  
  
"Kinda.... if the Nazi's had access to computers, cloning and gene manipulation. Our bosses got word that the cult... God, how am I supposed to say this.... You went to med school, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You remember what you did when a culture you were growin' went bust.... or an experiment didn't turn out?"  
  
"Of course. You.... you destroy it... and start again." Cheryl answered him, stumbling over her words as his point sank in.  
  
"Nail on the head. Give the doc a stuffed animal." Darien laughed bitterly.  
  
" 'Course the bastards wouldn't wanna get their hands dirty, would they? Can't have a perfect body without a nice freshly washed mind to go with it.... The cowards.... they set the kids up...."  
  
".... to do it themselves." Cheryl finished quietly, her suddenly tight throat nearly choking off the words. "How old were they?"  
  
"Ten.... some younger, but I'd bet there wasn't one older than that. Fifty kids..... fifty beautiful, innocent kids..... without a clue what they were doin' or a chance in hell of seein' Monday alive."  
  
"Except for you and Bobby."  
  
"Yeah.... except for us."  
  
Tears streaming down his face, Darien fell silent. After a moment, he rose from his chair and walked around it to where two walls of the office made a convenient corner. Slowly, he sank to the floor in lotus position, his back turned to Cheryl.  
  
She observed him for a few minutes, then rose to her feet as well. Dragging the chairs they had both been sitting in, she arranged them much as he had been doing in his nightly sleepwalks then joined him in the corner, one arm around his shoulders, silently consoling and comforting him for the rest of the hour.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	8. We Are Family

Wedding Song 8: We Are Family  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"I'm really sorry about yesterday."  
  
"What in the world could you possibly have to be sorry for?"  
  
"What I did. I totally copped out. I just get goin, I'm thinkin' maybe I can talk about it..... then I give up. I run an' hide like I always do."  
  
"Did you happen to notice I went with you?"  
  
"I noticed, an' I need to thank you for that, but it doesn't change anything."  
  
"You didn't cop out, Darien. Not even close."  
  
"I did, though. I should've been strong enough to keep talkin'.... get it all out there an' then."  
  
"Who says?"  
  
"Huh? I do, I guess. I count, don't I?"  
  
"Of course you count. I'm just trying to get across to you that almost noone I've ever counseled has told me everything in one shot. Anyone who can is either a superhero or their traumatic experience.... wasn't."  
  
"Seriously? Not even Bobby?"  
  
"Especially Bobby. He still has things buried that we haven't dealt with and he's been coming here for years. You made a really strong start yesterday, so today you get a break as a reward."  
  
"Yeah? From talkin' about Friday, or from talkin' period?"  
  
"I'm not that easy. After you left yesterday, your bio finally arrived from your employer. I'd like to spend a little time talking about your family."  
  
"I knew you weren't about to let go of that. Damn...."  
  
"You were forewarned. I did say it would only be off limits temporarily."  
  
"Can I just chew on a handful of nuts and bolts instead? Maybe I could go find Bin Laden, hold him down and shave off his beard?"  
  
Cheryl chuckled, but shook her head.  
  
"Imaginative ideas, but no."  
  
"Man... I'm already tired an' stressed. Why bring this up now?"  
  
"Are you open to trying something a bit unusual to get your answer?"  
  
"Yeah....."  
  
"Okay. Close your eyes. Visualize a long chain link fence in front of you. It's so long that you can't see either end. See yourself walking up to the fence..... and slamming the palm of one hand into the mesh. Does only the area directly under your hand vibrate?"  
  
" 'Course not. The whole thing shakes."  
  
"Because?"  
  
"It's all one piece. Apply force to one area, it transfers to the whole unit. It's the ripple effect."  
  
"Precisely. Very good. Time for an intuition test. What's my point?"  
  
Darien tucked his chin into his chest and thought for a minute or two, then met Cheryl's eyes again and gave her his answer.  
  
"The fence is me.... my life. Any impact, even a small one in a small spot, is gonna shake everything else up."  
  
"Enough hard blows and the fence will collapse. I need to know about your family so I can better evaluate how long and how hard you've been shaken."  
  
"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up a minute. You're sayin' maybe Friday.... wasn't completely about Friday?"  
  
"Maybe. I haven't heard the whole story yet. I won't make any conclusions until I have all the necessary information."  
  
"You don't think five days is gonna cut it do you?"  
  
"I'm not sure yet. Nothing's planned, I promise you that. I'm still waiting, thinking. Let's see how you do tomorrow then we'll talk. So. Family?"  
  
"If good old Osama's not in town..... I guess so. What'd you wanna know?"  
  
"You said Monday that you assumed your mom was still around somewhere." Cheryl said, reaching behind her to retrieve his bio. "According to this, though, she's...."  
  
".... dead." Darien broke in. "Yeah, she is. I don't even really remember sayin' that. Wishful Freudian slip."  
  
"You've gone through a lot of major losses in your life. Both your parents gone, your brother murdered....."  
  
"They didn't happen all that close together so it wasn't as hard as it could have been. And my.... biological father isn't dead. Not for lack of effort, that's for sure. I keep askin', God's just not cooperatin'."  
  
"You don't call him that just on a whim."  
  
"No. My uncle was more of a dad than I ever deserved. The other guy.... he was a genetic donor. Nothin' else."  
  
"He left at a particularly bad time didn't he?"  
  
"What would you consider a *good* time to walk out on your kid?" Darien growled, sitting forward. "Look, we can talk about anybody else.... even Kevin, just get off my bastard of a father! I said he was off limits an' I meant it."  
  
"Pain doesn't respect limits and boundaries, I'm afraid. Walling off your rage and hurt at being abandoned just guarantees that those emotions will show up someplace else, usually at a moment when you don't expect them, have no hope of controlling them and can least afford to be blindsided by them."  
  
Abruptly, Darien's thoughts shifted into the past, not to the death of the four children the previous Friday, but much further back, to the robbery and subsequent murder, which had resulted in his last trip to prison. A revelation struck him like a physical blow and he suddenly found himself struggling to draw breath. "Darien? What's wrong?"  
  
"N-nothing. I.... I'm okay..... just.... gimme a minute."  
  
"What happened? And don't say nothing. I was watching you and I know better."  
  
"I just.... I realized.... somethin' I never did before."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Oh, no. Sorry. This is..... you got my record in there?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All I can say right now.... is it has to do with my last bust."  
  
Quickly, Cheryl scanned Darien's prison record until she found the last arrest, giving him the needed time to calm down and regain his breath.  
  
"This says you were arrested for robbery and.... accessory to murder. Do you mind if I ask...."  
  
"Why I'm free? I don't mind. The answer's pretty simple. I didn't kill anybody, but my butt was still in a nasty, twenty-five-to-life sling for even bein' there. Next thing I know, my brother's offerin' me a get outta jail free card.... only it wasn't so free. Ta-dah, I'm a government agent."  
  
"That's a nice segue back into what were talking about. Tell me more about your brother."  
  
"Not much to talk about. He was shot by somebody at the lab he worked in."  
  
"Go back a few years, then. Tell me about how the two of you related after your father's disappearance and your mother's death."  
  
Glancing at his watch, Darien looked back up at Cheryl and grinned.  
  
"Sorry. I'm off the hook." he told her smugly, rising and strolling to the coat rack.  
  
"Only until tomorrow." she countered, following him and watching from the doorway as he eagerly embraced Bobby, who was waiting for his fiancée in the outer office.  
  
"Rough session, babe?"  
  
"You don't know the half of it. Let's get outta here."  
  
"An' go where?"  
  
"The garden again, then home."  
  
"What about dinner..."  
  
"We can order in, okay? I need to talk to you." Darien told him tersely as he slid into the passenger's side of the SUV and buckled his belt.  
  
"Okay. Whatever you want, kid." Bobby replied, starting the engine and carefully pulling away from the curb.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Just over an hour later, the couple was on the couch at home, having a "Serious Discussion" while they waited for the food to arrive.  
  
"Slow down, baby. Slow way down an' tell me again."  
  
"I'm sorry. This is just so huge... an' scary. I don't know what to do with it."  
  
"Why didn't you tell the doc when it happened?"  
  
Tucked into Bobby's chest, Darien sighed and briefly shut his eyes, his brow wrinkled in frustration.  
  
"I don't know. I probably will tomorrow. In the moment, it just fit what she was tellin' me to a T.... an' I didn't want her to be right."  
  
"Makes sense. I feel like that all the time. That means she's right a lot, but.... she can't help that. Now, tell me one more time, okay? Breathe slow.... try an' stay calm. Remember, I've got you. You're safe to say anything or feel anything you have to."  
  
"She was talkin' about my dad.... how I couldn't just stuff all the anger and pain he left me with.... 'cause it would come up again when I wasn't ready to handle it. I got this flash all of a sudden.... I always thought I knew exactly how the robbery played out that night. I made myself forget.... I must have."  
  
"What did you forget?"  
  
"That he called me son. The guard called me son. For no sane reason, I got.... furious.... madder than I'd ever been. Then it went away.... an' I was just empty. I didn't care, about him, the robbery.... nothing. I watched Brian sneak up behind the guy. I just... watched. I knew Brian had an itchy trigger finger, but I turned.... an' I ran. I didn't give a damn what could happen to the guard.... what Brian might do..... It was that word.... him calling me son. All the stuff I never got to say to my dad.... or let myself feel about what he did to us. It all showed up that night.... an' it got a man killed."  
  
"But you didn't shoot him."  
  
"No, I just let it happen...."  
  
"It still ain't your fault. If it helps, I forgive you, okay? I'll say it a million more times if that's what it'll take to make you hear it. Besides, all the lives you've saved since, mine included? You more than made up for your mistakes."  
  
"It helps. It really does. Once more oughta be enough..... for tonight anyway." Darien responded, swiping at an errant tear. Bobby leaned down close to his partner's ear and whispered the words again.  
  
"I forgive you, love. For now, forever. Anything an' everything. You're gonna be okay. We'll get through this. You're not alone.... never alone, you know that, right?"  
  
"I know.... damn, what'd I do to deserve you, huh?"  
  
"That's supposed to be my question...." Bobby contradicted, laughing. His sentence was cut off when a knock on the door indicated that the food had arrived. "You ready to eat?"  
  
"Yeah, I actually think I am."  
  
"Good, cause I'm not facin' all this Mexican food by myself." Hobbes warned as they both got to their feet.  
  
"Not like you couldn't...." Darien teased.  
  
"Excuse me? What was that, bottomless pit boy?"  
  
"Please! I've seen you eat, Bobby! You could inhale twice what we ordered tonight an' still have room for dessert...."  
  
"Oh, yeah? An' who was it that practically swallowed two pizzas whole when we went out three weeks ago? An' never gained a single ounce, either." Bobby grumbled this last on his way to the door.  
  
"Yeah, well, you get a gland shoved in your brain that quadruples your metabolism when you use it, then we'll talk....."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC........ 


	9. Everybody HurtsPart One

A Wedding Song 9: Everybody Hurts--- Part One  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
7:30 FRIDAY MORNING  
  
"Two hours? Both of us.... yeah, I know it's his scheduled..... He said you canceled his.... I know that too. It's not that big a deal, I just wanna tell him in my own.... I don't. Fine. I said fine, didn't I? No, I'm not okay with the idea.... but I'll handle it. Gee. Could it be 'cause I *am* upset? We'll talk when I get there."  
  
Darien replaced the phone receiver with a little more force than he needed to, causing father and daughter to jump, despite being several feet away.  
  
"Lemme guess. Doc Mason?"  
  
"Big leap of logic, there Hobbes. Don't strain your faculties tryin' to figure out why she called, though. I'll give you the bad news myself. She wants to extend my session to include your time..... and you. She thinks she's so cute.... clever little.... I'll do what *I* wanna do an' I'll do it my way! Just wait an' see if you get word one outta me while he's around...." Darien mumbled, his diatribe to Bobby devolving into self- talk.  
  
"Okay.... so we're a little edgy all of a sudden. Mind tellin' me what that was all about?"  
  
"Yeah, I mind a hell of a lot actually."  
  
"Tell me anyway."  
  
"Not a chance. Go look after the baby. I'm gonna take a drive."  
  
"No you're not." Bobby told him, grabbing Darien's arm. "Not until you talk to me. What is it, huh? The thought of spendin' an extra hour with me turn your stomach all of a sudden?"  
  
This question drained most of Darien's fury. Gazing at Bobby, the other man sighed in resignation.  
  
"That's not it an' you know damn well it isn't. She.... she wants you to be there when I finally tell her the worst of it. She wouldn't let up so I gave in, but.... it's not the way I wanted it to go. When you heard the whole story.... I figured we'd be alone, someplace quiet, peaceful."  
  
"Did you think maybe she knows how hard this'll be for you? That maybe she thought you'd want your fiancée there for support? Or maybe she just doesn't want you to have to sick up this poison more than once."  
  
"Nah.... she knows I'm gonna break down, alright. She wants you there to see it.... to see how weak I am."  
  
"Weak?! You have gotta be kidding! You made it through almost nine full months a'pregnancy, a C-section, which for you was a freakin' nightmare..... you, my friend, are anything but weak."  
  
"She doesn't know about all that. She thinks Bobbi is yours."  
  
"Eberts had to put somethin' believable on the certificate, didn't he? What else was I supposed to tell her?"  
  
"He could have used my name as the father."  
  
"In case you forgot, that's me. I'm her father..."  
  
"And I'm her mother!"  
  
"The way you treat her lately, I'm startin' to wonder if you still want the job."  
  
For a long, unbearably strained moment, Darien simply stared at Bobby, renewed anger flaring brightly in his eyes, quickly joined by deep hurt and bewilderment.  
  
"God..... how can you not understand?! You were there.... you were two feet away. You saw it.... saw her..... How can you....."  
  
Shaking his head slightly, Darien turned and headed for the door.  
  
"Fawkes, wait, damn it!"  
  
"Forget it! Don't bother to show up at the office today. I don't want you there, for support or anything else!"  
  
Watching from the open door, Bobby fought down a fierce desire to run after his love, knowing the anger only both sides could escalate to blows if he didn't let Darien go.  
  
"Hell with what you *want*, baby. I know what you *need*.... an' I'm *gonna* be there this afternoon...."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TWELVE O'CLOCK  
  
"Darien. Come in. My Lord, you look awful! Sit. You didn't say anything this morning about being sick."  
  
"I'm not sick." he responded wearily, eyes sliding shut as he dropped into a slump in his usual chair and allowed his head to fall back. "I just... drove downtown this mornin'. I've been walkin' ever since."  
  
"Why? Did something happen after I called?"  
  
"Try *because* you called. After I got off the phone, my inner two year old threw a fire-breathin' tantrum. Bobby kinda got caught in the backdraft..... an' we fought. It was really stupid..... Hey, I got a good question for you, doc."  
  
"Okay. Go ahead."  
  
"How come humans never stop an' figure out what we're fightin' about *before* we bust somebody's chops? Submit *that*one to 'Psychology Today' an' see if you get an answer...." Darien suggested grimly.  
  
"You really let him have it, hmmm?"  
  
"Both barrels an' a reload."  
  
"Until I hear from the magazine, how about taking a crack at the answer yourself? From a personal standpoint, of course, not in terms of the entire human race."  
  
"Thanks. Like figurin' out why I imploded is gonna be any easier."  
  
After a minute or two of deep thought, Darien's scowl slowly vanished." On second thought maybe I do know."  
  
"Okay. Give me the rationale of your inner two year old. I really like that phrase, by the way. Very colorful."  
  
"Yeah, I'm freakin' Jackson Pollack." He murmured distractedly in response "Is it okay if I think this through out loud?" Darien requested, finally raising his head and meeting Cheryl's eyes  
  
"That is kind of the point."  
  
"Cute. Okay.... see, I've always been pretty much a loner, but I've never really been alone. Not by choice anyway. After my dad left, there was still my mom and my brother Kevin. When mom died, my aunt an' uncle stepped in to finish raisin' Kev an' me. When Kev was killed, there wasn't anybody for a while.... 'till Bobby found me."  
  
"It sounds wonderful. You've had support every time you needed it."  
  
"True..... but there's a huge downside to that. Enough people vanish outta your life, for whatever reason, you start thinkin' 'I'm the only one who'll never leave me. I can't depend on anybody else.' Somewhere between my mom's accident an' Kev's murder, I stopped listenin' to everybody but myself. Friends, family.... their opinions an' ideas coulda been right on; I didn't care. When we first got partnered up, Bobby had a lotta colorful phrases of his own to describe me. I think snot-nosed punk was his favorite."  
  
"It's obvious that didn't last long."  
  
"Nah. He wouldn't let it. He says.... he could see a solid, reliable agent inside all the walls an' wiseass comments I put up to keep him out. I'd say he had a method to his madness, but with him.... it's a madness to his method. He used this weird combo of friendship, teaching and kicks in the ass to get me to dig out an' really look at the good stuff in me.... the stuff he always knew was there."  
  
"You must have been so glad he was there with you Friday morning."  
  
Abruptly Darien's scowl returned, doubled in intensity.  
  
"That again?"  
  
"You knew the goal for today before you walked in. I was just waiting for you to leave me an opening big enough to stick a segue into. The serve is yours, I believe?"  
  
For a long, tense moment, Darien tightened his lips and stared her down. When he realized she had no intention of letting him off the hook by speaking first, he surrendered.  
  
"Most of the time.... yeah, I was unbelievably glad to have him beside me. On assignment, he doesn't let things get to him. Off the clock, he can be as emotional as any other person. I've seen him cry just 'cause Bobbi Claire reached out an' touched his face while he's holdin' her."  
  
"But at work...."  
  
"Nothin' but business. He's an amazing leader. This... quiet strength just pours off him... you can almost feel it. He says walk into hell, you don't ask for water or a thermometer.... You pick a gate an' you go."  
  
Picking up on something subtle, an emotion she wasn't even sure Darien knew was there, Cheryl probed a little, but very carefully.  
  
"And you admire that in him."  
  
"I like that we complement each other. I'm not the leader type. I'm usually the one puttin' on the fireproof jockeys an' doin' the hut-two-three-four."  
  
"And it really doesn't disturb you that he can turn it off and on like that?"  
  
Darien responded quickly, but as he spoke his eyes dropped to the floor, the muscles along his jaw tightened, forcing him to clip his words, and his tone slowly became dark and severe.  
  
"I never thought about it. I guess maybe I just don't come down as fast as he does. Hobbes.... it was business as usual for him by Friday afternoon, but me.... I can't see somebody die an' walk away singin' 'Oblah-di, Oblah- dah, Life Goes On.' I've accepted how I am. Like I said, we complement each other."  
  
"Wow. I can see you're really angry about this. Are you mad at Bobby, yourself or is it something else?"  
  
"Angry? I *was* mad at you this mornin'. I wanted to talk to Hobbes about Friday my way, in my time. No, I was mad at a lotta stuff, but not Bobby. Never...."  
  
Darien let his sentence hang unfinished; listening to his heart instead of completing what he now realized was an automatic response. Silently, intently, he searched for the truth behind the events of that morning, returning to the last few minutes of conversation with Cheryl and adding those into the equation as well. When he finally got his answer, it stunned him into sudden tears. "Oh.... oh God. I am.... I am mad at him... at least a little. Why.... I don't get it... he didn't do anything...."  
  
"He didn't have to. You have a right to be angry, Darien. Right now your world is like that chain link fence. That hand has slammed into you not once, but five times now. You're still waiting for the shaking to stop, wondering where the solid ground disappeared to. That can be incredibly frightening and frustrating. When we feel that way, we usually end up releasing the pressure all over some poor unsuspecting friend or loved one who didn't do a thing to deserve it."  
  
"The closer they are, the more convenient a target they make."  
  
"Exactly. Bobby's had some quakes to survive, too. I know he'll understand."  
  
"So... why is it so different for me? Is it what he's gone through that made Bobby so much stronger?"  
  
"Trust me, he isn't any stronger than you are. I agree, some of what he's seen and done forced him to thicken his skin, but it's much more about type. Whether it's major or minor, everyone experiences trauma at some point in their lives. Some people can walk through it, shake it off and go on living until the next one hits. Others absorb the worst of each traumatic moment as they move past it. The residue builds up like poison inside them, layer on layer, until they reach a saturation point where it's find the antidote or start to die a little at a time. Friday may have been you reaching that point."  
  
"But... you can't know.... unless I say it."  
  
"That's right. Do you think you're ready now?"  
  
"Almost. One question?"  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Antidotes to poison.... they don't always work fast.... do they?"  
  
"No, not all the time. It depends what the poison is."  
  
"I... I wanna tell you.... I gotta tell somebody, but..... you don't know how hard this is...."  
  
"I do." came a deep voice from the doorway. "I was there, remember?"  
  
In a rush, Darien leapt to his feet, nearly stumbling and falling in his rush to get to Bobby, who opened his arms and accepted his fiancée into a powerful hug.  
  
"God... I'm so sorry, Bobby.... I didn't mean it... any of it...."  
  
"Yeah, you did or you wouldn't a'said it."  
  
Pulling away, Darien stared at him in confusion.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's okay." Bobby reassured him, stroking Darien's face softly. "I been waitin' all week for that blow out to happen. All the pressure you been under.... I knew it had to come. If anyone's sorry, it's me, babe. I got caught up in it an' forgot to watch my tongue. I made it worse than it had to be.... forgive me?"  
  
Grinning from ear to ear, Darien drew Bobby close to him once again.  
  
"As a wise man once said, 'Now an' forever, anything an' everything.' I'm so damn glad you didn't listen to me this morning.... I need you so much."  
  
"Hey, we're in this together. That's what marriage is supposed to be about, ain't it? Besides, I never listened to you before. Why start now?"  
  
"Oh, funny. You lookin' to start another knock-down drag-out?" Darien responded lightly.  
  
Bobby returned the smile and lifted his fists into defensive positions. The mock boxing match would definitely have been on had Cheryl not cleared her throat and gently reminded them what they were *really* there for, all the while suppressing her urge to laugh.  
  
"Gentlemen? You're in my office, not Madison Square Garden and we do have work to do. Seats?"  
  
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry, doc."  
  
"Me too." Darien added as the two plopped next to each other on the sofa that stretched to cover most of the wall on the opposite side of the room from her desk. Cheryl took the chair Darien had been occupying and turned it to face her patients.  
  
"Accepted. Now. Who wants to start?"  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	10. Everybody HurtsConclusion

A Wedding Song 10: Everybody Hurts--- Conclusion  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"I guess I should...." Bobby began, but he stopped when Darien squeezed his hand. "You sure?"  
  
"I need to be the one to.... There's stuff even you don't know, Bobby. Hell, a couple spots even I'm not sure what really went down. I have to talk it out.... get everything straight."  
  
"Okay. I'm right here if...."  
  
"I know. If I need it I promise I'll ask. This morning, when I.... You understand I didn't.... right?"  
  
"Yeah. I understand."  
  
This exchange brought a brief, snorting laugh from Cheryl.  
  
"What?" Darien questioned her.  
  
"Not that I ever had any doubts you two are genuinely in love, but if I did, that would have erased them. The only people I've ever seen perform that kind of shorthand speech are the ones who've bonded at the deepest possible level."  
  
"Wait... say that again?" Bobby asked.  
  
"In layman's terms? I don't have a clue what those last three sentences meant; therefore, you must be in love. Okay, now that the tension's been broken, back to business. Darien? I think you had just started to talk about the children when..."  
  
".... when I chickened out?"  
  
"I was going to say when it got too hard for you to continue. You are no coward, Darien. I keep hoping you'll see that. Accepting that little piece of truth might open your eyes to a lot of other truths as well."  
  
"Yeah? Like what?"  
  
"Later. For now, back to the story, alright?"  
  
"I know. Five yard penalty for delay of game." he joked, smiling sadly at her.  
  
"Let's call it penalty declined, repeat first down."  
  
Darien's smile widened and Cheryl could see a question about her football knowledge forming on his lips. She quickly shot it down. "I'll make you a deal. If there's any time left today, and if any of us have the energy, *then* we can talk about the Chargers. Okay?"  
  
"Okay. I really have to do this don't I?" he acknowledged, sobering abruptly.  
  
"You don't have to, no. My motto is 'Option not obligation.' The only thing you have to do is make a choice."  
  
Darien gazed solemnly at Cheryl, then at Bobby. Finally he pulled his legs onto the couch, wrapped his arms around them and dropped his chin onto his knees.  
  
"I know, I know. Shielding. Just this once..."  
  
"Go ahead, if it'll help. I never meant to imply that the instinct to protect yourself is wrong or is something I disapprove of. I just wanted to be sure you were aware you were doing it. You will reach a point where the instinct won't rule your life anymore."  
  
"From your mouth to.... Anyway, you said the last thing I told you was about the kids, right?"  
  
"Right. There were fifty children?"  
  
"Close. Forty-nine. The only way we found out what was goin' down was that one of the kids escaped an' managed to get to us. He didn't know a whole lot, just the basics. We kinda hoped they'd all be in one place. The first location we hit on Thursday mornin' was big enough for it, but... no such luck. The bastards weren't gonna make it that easy. They split em up pretty much evenly.... but that meant we had five buildings to get to.... in forty-eight hours. After I found the first ten kids, I told Bobby what floor they were on, kept 'em in sight 'till he got there. This little boy.... I swear, he wasn't much more than a baby.... six, seven years old.... he was just standin' there in the middle of a circle of kids.... starin' off into the distance.... with a gun in his hand."  
  
At this point Darien looked to Bobby for the portion of the story that had occurred while he was gone.  
  
"Is it okay, doc? I mean... it's only 'cause I sent him back down to set somethin' up for me...."  
  
"It's alright. Go ahead, Bobby."  
  
"Okay. See, I figured the only way to get the kids and all our guys out safe was usin' tear gas as a distraction, but.... it needed a few minutes before it'd be ready an'... somebody had to get the shooter's attention so he wouldn't catch on. I wasn't about to put Darien in the line a'fire, so..."  
  
"So he decides, all by himself, that he makes a better target an' sends me off on some stupid errand that he coulda set up just as easily over the radio...."  
  
"The kid had a handgun! There wasn't time to discuss it in committee!"  
  
"I am not a committee, I'm your fiancée!"  
  
"Gentlemen."  
  
The one word was all that was necessary.  
  
"Sorry, doc." Bobby offered sheepishly.  
  
"It's alright. We'll come back to Bobby's motivations later. Darien?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. The story.... The tear gas stunt worked better than we hoped it would. Bobby got the gun, the backup teams came an' took the kids out..... shipped 'em off to be deprogrammed. The office got us the next two locations an' we pulled the same trick. It just kept workin'.... We saved thirty kids before it got too dark an' we got too damn tired to keep goin'. I shoulda known...."  
  
"Known what?"  
  
"My life... it's been nasty sometimes, but... it did teach me one thing. When the leaves start fallin', watch out for the tree branch that's right behind 'em. I let myself think we could actually do it.... we could save the rest of the kids the same way. I got arrogant.... that made me forget.... I didn't pay attention....."  
  
Suddenly Darien began rocking back and forth, eyes twisted shut, expression sheer pain. "Crap. Bobby.... I can't....."  
  
"You can. You're so close. Don't give up now...."  
  
"I'm not. I just need.... please."  
  
"Gimme your hands. I'm gonna help, babe, but ya gotta let go a'your knees.... good. Shut out everything else, okay? Hear me.... listen to my voice. I'm right here. It's all gonna be okay. You're so amazin' to me, you know that? You can do anything.... walk through anything. I believe in you.... an' I'm not goin away. Not ever. Just stay strong...." He soothed, shifting closer in order to be in easy reach. Slowly, he moved through the familiar facial touch routine Darien had come to depend on for relief in times of high stress, but when the first cycle was finished, instead of returning to the beginning, Bobby switched to an addition the two had developed during a yoga session some weeks back.  
  
Gently, starting at Darien's shoulders, Bobby glided his hands down his fiancée's arms over and over, repeating the movement until he felt the taut- steel-wire tension begin to flow out of the other man. At that point, Hobbes provided Darien a minute or two of firm hand massage, easing potential cramps out of the fingers, and let him go. Darien, his eyes always on Bobby, chose not to return to his usual protective position.  
  
In stunned silence, Cheryl watched the couple interact and had to suppress a faint flare of emotion she refused to admit was anything even related to jealousy. It was obvious to her now that their bond went deeper than she could ever have guessed. Shaking herself mentally, she quickly jotted some notes about what she'd just observed and a reminder to have Bobby teach her the technique he'd used.  
  
"Sorry again, Doc, but.... he needed me."  
  
"I noticed. Quite a powerful demonstration."  
  
"Nah. It's just somethin' I do. It helps."  
  
"I see that too. Ready to go on, Darien?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"Okay. You'd just finished telling me about Thursday...."  
  
"Bobby had to make me go home that night. If it were up to me... I woulda stayed out till I found 'em all, even if it took everything I had left. I wanted.... needed to find every one of those kids an' be sure they were safe. As it was I slept maybe an hour between the time we crawled into bed an' the phone call at four-thirty in the mornin'. We got dressed, ate somethin'... Hobbes ate, anyway. I couldn't. By five thirty we were on the road.... but we didn't get outta the house exactly when we wanted to. When I wanted to. The truck keys did a vanishin' act, we had to spend time searchin'...."  
  
Bobby's fingers entwined with Darien's and tightened, lending him strength to push on through the most difficult portion of the tale. Darien thanked the other man with his eyes, drew and expelled a steadying breath and continued. "I kept tellin' Hobbes somethin' was wrong. I could just... feel it. It wasn't like before. My heart was goin' crazy, I couldn't breathe right. I just kept sayin'.... drive faster. Damn it, drive faster.... By the time we pulled up it was.... quarter past six? The teams started settin' up around this old house.... they started, but.... there was... a gunshot.... an' they all just.... stood there... in shock. I ran in the front door.... there was a.... a little girl this time. A girl! I mean.... she was like.... nine years old.... an' there she was, a kid already on the floor, an' she's starin' at a boy no older than her.... drawin' down on him like he was a paper target! She fired so fast.... before I could get to her an'.... it was like the whole world.... twisted on me. I grabbed her before she could pull the trigger again.... I ripped it out of her hand, threw it against a wall.... I think. That.... that was when everybody else came roarin' in behind me.... at least that's what Bobby says."  
  
"You don't remember?"  
  
"No. Like I said... the world sorta... twisted. All I could see.... all I could think about was this other girl.... the one who was shot first. Thing is, it wasn't.... I wasn't seein' what was really there...."  
  
"Who were you seeing?" Cheryl asked gently, though she believed she already knew the answer. When Darien began to sob quietly and turned to Bobby again, it confirmed her suspicion.  
  
"I... picked up this.... beautiful little girl.... God himself couldn't have convinced me it wasn't my baby I was holdin'.... I thought it was my little Bobbi.... an' I knew if it took every ounce of strength I had left.... I was gonna save her.... I sat there on the floor rockin' her.... givin' her mouth to mouth.... Hobbes, I'm so sorry. You couldn't know.... I didn't have a way to tell you what was goin' on in my head... so when you made me give up the body.... tried to make me understand she was gone..... "  
  
"God... so that's why you've been so afraid to touch her..."  
  
"Maybe.... probably. If I hold her.... it'll come true. I'm so scared it'll all turn out to be true...."  
  
When the couple embraced again, both crying this time, Cheryl gave them several minutes of comfort and connection before she interrupted.  
  
"Darien. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. The death of a child, even if they aren't yours, is one of the most devastating things anyone can witness. Anyone facing something so awful, who already had a young child at home...."  
  
"No. Not everybody woulda let the cheese slip off their cracker. That was all me. I know that now."  
  
"New penalty. Ten yards for jumping to conclusions. You had an extreme reaction to a traumatic situation. There's nothing unusual in that and it doesn't mean you went crazy, even temporarily."  
  
"I know, I know. It's that type thing you were talkin' about, but how come I have to be the type I am? Why can't I just.... shake it off like Bobby does?"  
  
"Have you looked at him in the past few minutes? Really looked at him? He's grieving too, Darien. It's not over what you went both went through, I admit. He's moved past that. His pain is for *your* pain. Even the waterproof, let-it-roll-off-my-back types suffer. They just transfer the pain to something else, some other problem or crisis, and use it as motivation to help others. That doesn't make Bobby's sorrow any less legitimate."  
  
"That only answered part of my question."  
  
"We are who we are, I'm afraid. All you can do about your type is learn to manage your reactions in tough, painful situations. For you that means talking. Lots and lots of talking. It's sort of like being in a boat with a slow leak. If you bail on a regular basis, you'll stay afloat indefinitely, but the longer you let the water rise, the more effort you have to put into getting back to status quo."  
  
"I've let it go for a long time, huh?"  
  
"Almost too long. Remember the phrase I used earlier, saturation point? You'd taken on as much water as you possibly could by Friday. When the children died it was just one drop too much."  
  
"I was drowning?"  
  
"Precisely. Let's back up for a minute to your description of the events at the fourth location. I'd like you to clarify something for me if you can."  
  
"Sure. I'll do my best."  
  
"Tell me again about the gun. What did you do with it?"  
  
"Like I said, I tore it out of her hand.... an' I threw it away."  
  
"Last time you added the words 'I think.' Try again. Close your eyes. See yourself entering the house...."  
  
"Okay. Can we not do this? This is one of those moments I'm not really.... clear on."  
  
"Then we need to fix that. For your own peace of mind, you need to understand everything that happened that day, Darien. Close your eyes."  
  
"Look, you don't understand.... I hate guns. I won't carry one, touch one, I won't even look at one. I don't have any real reason to question what I did that morning."  
  
"You were questioning it a few minutes ago."  
  
"No I wasn't. I... I was so lost.... while I was sittin' there.... I was in my own personal "Twilight Zone", ya know? I told you, I don't remember anything except that... beautiful girl.... with an ugly hole in her chest.... an' blood all over her shirt...."  
  
Sensing Darien preparing to set the possibly false memory in cement, Cheryl turned to Bobby instead, hoping he could either confirm or refute Darien's account.  
  
"Bobby. Let's do an FBF on this from your point of view, okay?"  
  
"Doc...."  
  
"It's important. If he's right, I'll let it go."  
  
"Hold it." Darien interjected. "What's FBF?"  
  
"It means Frame By Frame." Bobby explained. "You go back over somethin' you think you remember like you're lookin' at a movie on a VCR in super slow- mo. You pull every detail you can outta one picture, then you go to the next."  
  
"You don't trust me? You don't believe I'm tellin' the truth?"  
  
"I think there may be a truth here that you aren't ready to face. Bobby?"  
  
Hobbes closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  
  
"You want me to start with the first look I got at Fawkes an' the room?"  
  
"That should do fine. Absorb every detail, remember. Don't just rely on how well you know Darien. Study him, the other children, the walls, the windows...."  
  
"The kids.... they haven't moved. They're still in the circle.... waitin'. The room is just a run-down room in a fallin' down house. Peelin' wallpaper, filthy windows. Can't hardly see out. Darien..... he's got his back to me. His legs are tucked up under him, like he went to his knees before he sat down. Funny how his legs look even longer that way. I can see he's holdin' a kid on his lap, but not whether it's a boy or a girl. He's bent way over the kid. His shirt's come untucked, but that's nothin' new.... ahhhhh crap. Damn it, kid...."  
  
"What is it, Bobby?" Cheryl encouraged.  
  
"There's a gun in his waistband... at the back. He musta had to pull his shirt out when he shoved it in there. His shirt's always messy.... that's why it didn't register... besides I was lookin' at the girl, tryin' to get through to my partner...."  
  
"That's a damn lie an' you know it! I only touched it long enough to get rid of it!"  
  
Bobby turned and stared at Darien.  
  
"You think I don't know what it looks like? You think after all my years with the feds that *I* don't know what it looks like when somebody's tryin' to hide a gun? I taught *you* what to look for!"  
  
"I wouldn't do that! I make you put yours away at home, don't I? I do that so I don't have to look at it!"  
  
"Yeah, but the last week or so, you've been nuts about it. You barely let me get in the house an' the gun has to go. You wouldn't talk about why, either. You wouldn't even admit it's gotten worse." Bobby countered quietly, things he'd learned over the past two or three days finally dropping into place in the puzzle of Friday morning and creating a much more complete picture for him.  
  
Darien's expression swiftly moved from furious to panicked as he watched Bobby go from confusion to understanding.  
  
"No.... I threw it at the wall.... I know I did! I didn't do that.... I didn't...."  
  
Rising, Darien ran to the same corner he and Cheryl had huddled in together on Wednesday and stood facing into it. After a moment, he slid down into a crouch. When Bobby ran a hand over his face and leaned forward, Cheryl questioned him softly.  
  
"You know something we don't?"  
  
"Wish I didn't. I got the final report on all this yesterday. Some of it just didn't make any sense..... 'till now."  
  
"Like?"  
  
"The fifth location.... it was this little warehouse barely big enough to hold all nine kids that were left. Darien.... he was talkin' to me, answerin' questions.... but I've never in my life seen him so wound up. I thought I was gonna hafta pull one of the other agents off duty an' order him to cart Fawkes home. He started slammin' things with his hands, yellin'.... I told him to calm down or he was outta there. I thought he'd be okay.... then the fireworks started early again. When I looked around, he'd taken off. By the time I found him in the warehouse, two more kids were dead. He was leanin' on the wall holdin' this bloody scrape on his arm. He said it was a bullet graze, but...."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"The forensics report said there was no bullet in the wall behind him... or beside him.... or anywhere near him. An' that's not the worst of it. One of the two we lost was the shooter for that group. The report said he musta killed himself.... but only one round was missin' from his gun.... that was in the boy he shot before we got there...."  
  
"Darien must have.... oh, Bobby, no...."  
  
"I heard a second shot a couple minutes before I found Darien. When he said the kid fired at him an' missed I believed him, no questions, no nothin'.... but I ignored a lot a'stuff that didn't fit. I guess I didn't wanna put it together.... I just wanted it to be done.... I wanted to take Darien home. Four dead kids... it was enough for one day. I didn't wanna see... God, what did I do?"  
  
"It's not your fault, Bobby, not in any way, and it's not his either."  
  
"Yes, it is.... it is... it's mine.... they're all my fault.... mine...."  
  
Darien's tear choked voice drifted out from the corner where he'd hidden his face, prompting the other two onto their feet, rushing to his side and his defense.  
  
"What happened in that warehouse, Darien?" Cheryl asked, gently encouraging him to turn and face out into the room again, urging him to sit on the floor even as she and Bobby dropped into position on either side of him. "Just look in my eyes.... and tell me exactly what happened. You can do this. Be strong..."  
  
"Bobby...."  
  
"I'm right here, kid. It's okay. Just... just say it. I know it ain't your fault, but you gotta say it to make it better. This is the last of it, baby.... just say the words... then we can both let it go...."  
  
"He... he was just... starin' down at the kid he killed.... starin' like... like he didn't know what he was lookin' at.... then he heard me.... he turned... looked at me.... an' smiled. I saw a real little kid in that smile... I saw my kid. Until he said.... he knew how I'd ruined the.... the rest of their plan.... but, he couldn't let me destroy it completely.... it was too important.... he wouldn't let me force them to live in a... a corrupt and destitute world. He p-pointed the gun... a-at me.... What they say? It isn't true. It's a damn lie..."  
  
"What is?" Cheryl responded.  
  
"That your life flashes before your eyes. It's not true. You see your kids..... It wasn't my useless life.... or the mess I made of most of it.... I saw Bobbi's. 'Till right then... I didn't know I had it.... I didn't have a clue until I reached back.... an' pulled out that stupid.... stupid piece of metal. He looked surprised. That's the last thing I remember until Hobbes found me.... the kid actually looked surprised...."  
  
Darien collapsed then, falling sideways and burrowing into Bobby's embrace as the last of his terrible burden slipped off his shoulders. Cheryl patted and rubbed his back constantly, leaving him only long enough to speak to her secretary and cancel the rest of her appointments for the day.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
FORTY MINUTES LATER  
  
"Darien?"  
  
"Yeah? What? I'm here."  
  
"Just checking. You've been quiet for a long time."  
  
"Damn.... Did I screw up your schedule? Hey, I'm really sorry...." he began, sitting up and moving away from Bobby slowly.  
  
"Not in the least. It's perfectly alright. I had a feeling you might need more than the two hours today. I usually only have one other patient after Bobby. She's not an urgent case so I had Arlene cancel it. Think you're ready to come back to the couch?"  
  
"Huh... oh. Oh, yeah." Darien responded sheepishly as Hobbes helped him to his feet. "Just for curiosity's sake...."  
  
"About an hour and a quarter, I'd say. I was tempted to let you just fall asleep right there and tell Bobby to lock up when you were ready to leave. The two of you made an incredibly beautiful picture."  
  
"Sure. You could title it 'The Weeping Wimp In It's Natural Habitat'."  
  
"I'm not even going to dignify that little piece of self-deprecation with a response."  
  
"My bad."  
  
"Indeed. Do you feel like talking for a few more minutes, or are you too exhausted?"  
  
"I'm okay.... I guess. Talk about what?"  
  
"Where you go from here. You accomplished the goal for these five days and you should be very proud of yourself for that. Facing the whole of what happened to you Friday was extremely difficult. It took tremendous strength."  
  
"But?"  
  
"No. No qualifiers. No exceptions. I just have one question. How do you feel?"  
  
"Better. Lighter. Like I cried every tear I had in me. For a while anyway."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
Darien closed his eyes briefly and took a few minutes to really think about his answer before he spoke again. When he finally responded, his voice was soft, weighted with bone-deep fatigue and tinged with returning sadness.  
  
"I'm not done."  
  
"Is that a question or a statement?"  
  
"Both?"  
  
"Okay." Cheryl chuckled softly. "I can see the logic. Can you tell me why you think you're not done?"  
  
"I... I know what I did.... but, knowing it isn't the same as accepting it.... or forgivin' myself for it. That's gonna take time. Plus, there was other stuff that came out.... stuff that wasn't about Friday. I think, before I marry Bobby.... maybe I should look at some of that a little closer. Get more of a handle on it, ya know?"  
  
"I'm impressed with your insight, Darien. After a day like you've had, most people couldn't put that group of thoughts together, never mind articulate it so clearly. I think it's an excellent idea. Do you want to set a time limit or play it by ear?"  
  
"By ear. That sounds good. That way we both get an equal say in when I'm okay again."  
  
"If you want my opinion, you're pretty okay right now. What you have left to work out won't be a tenth as devastating as today. You've gone through a major trauma, yes, but you survived because you already had a support system in place. All I am is another piece of that system. Bobby will be with you when I can't and between the three of us your life will get back to normal."  
  
"Or at least as normal as my life gets. Thanks...... I know it's lame to just say that, but it's all I can think of."  
  
"Thanks for what?"  
  
Oh, I don't know, maybe for skippin' lunch all week to help me get my head straight?" Darien retorted gently, adding a faint smile. "For sayin' you'll keep helpin' me when I know you're probably full up with patients as it is. Just.... for everything."  
  
"You keep piling on penalties, you'll be throwing passes from the end zone pretty soon. Terrible field position."  
  
"Okay, so you don't have a full schedule...." he laughed.  
  
"Monday and Wednesday are pretty much empty. You can take your pick of which day you want and what time. Just call when you decide. Speaking of which, you two should be heading home. It's past three and I know Darien's eaten little or nothing all day."  
  
"Me either. Not since breakfast anyway. She's right, partner. Your head's had enough work for one day. Let's go make our stomachs pick up some a'the slack."  
  
"Okay. Doc... Thanks again." Darien repeated as he and Bobby grabbed their coats.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
Once in the SUV and headed home, Darien began, inch by painful inch, to truly relax for the first time in two weeks. At least he was relaxing until Bobby spoke up.  
  
"Damn."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I forgot. There's some paperwork I gotta finish back at the office. It won't take more than a half hour. I can drop you off at the pizza place. You can either take it home an' I'll catch a cab or I can meet you there after I'm done."  
  
"I'll go with you. I can wait a little longer to eat."  
  
"Nah. It's better if I drop you off...."  
  
"Bobby.... why can't I stay with you?"  
  
Unwillingly, Hobbes responded to the pure need wrapped within Darien's simple request.  
  
"Okay, if you don't mind waitin' around."  
  
"I don't. I just... don't feel like bein' by myself right now."  
  
"I know. It's alright. Claire might still be there. Eberts definitely will. You can stick with them 'till I'm done. Okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Okay."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE AGENCY: EBERTS' OFFICE  
  
"I ain't got all the time in the world, Eberts. I told him half an hour. Claire can only keep him busy so long. Just gimme the tapes."  
  
"Robert, you don't understand. I can't just...."  
  
"I don't want anything classified. Just the P.M. surveillance. National security's not gonna be compromised by me watchin' him sleep, is it?"  
  
"No, I suppose not, but.... alright. How many do you want to see?"  
  
Two or three is all I got time for right now, but eventually.... as many as you can get me."  
  
"Here." The smaller man replied, unlocking a cabinet and handing Bobby three labeled and cased video tapes. "Since I'm risking jail and my pension on your behalf, you could tell me why you're so interested only in these particular..."  
  
" Not now. Maybe someday..... go help Claire with Darien, okay? Don't let him come lookin' for me, no matter what. Oh, and thanks. Ebes the mighty mouse comes through again." Bobby commented wryly as his friend moved out of the office.  
  
"Don't just leave them out. You can see where they go in the cabinet."  
  
"I see. I'll put 'em all back, I promise. Go, okay?"  
  
Picking up the first tape, Bobby stared at the label for a long moment, then cracked open the case and popped the tape in the waiting VCR. Retrieving the remote, he pushed play and dropped onto a nearby ottoman to watch. In truth, he fast forwarded through most of the footage, as each tape held a week's worth of surveillance.  
  
For half an hour, Bobby watched his partner, the man he had come to love, lying wrapped in a straightjacket, suffering through his early days with the gland, whimpering in pain, often not sleeping at all. When he did sleep, however, it was always in one corner of the room, usually the same corner, and always with a chair or table either very close to or completely covering his shuddering, agony-wracked body.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	11. Mad Season: Part One

A Wedding Song 11: Mad Season  
  
Thanks again to suz for very politely slapping me upside the head when I don't do my research. You're becoming my saving grace. Thank God you're not afraid to crack me a good one when I get lazy! LOL. This chap is significantly different than the version that was here.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
MONDAY MORNING  
  
"Will you please sit down?"  
  
"Uh-uh! Get away from me! You put that down, Claire, or I'm never comin' in the Keep again!"  
  
"Bobby, you are being ridiculous! Get over here...."  
  
"Yeah, right! I got a gun an' I'll use it, I swear...."  
  
"You will not!"  
  
"Well.... okay, so I won't, but you're still not gettin' any closer to me with.... that!"  
  
Disgusted, Claire threw down the exam gown she held and unleashed her secret weapon.  
  
"Robert Albert Leviticus Mercutio Hobbes! You come and sit down in this administering chair or..."  
  
Instantly Bobby whipped around to make sure the door to the soundproofed lab was secure and that noone outside could have heard Claire's intentional indiscretion. When he faced her again, she held up the door remote, sporting an evil grin. He quailed for a minute, then developed a grin of his own.  
  
"You open that door an' I'm gone."  
  
"That's not all this remote does anymore. I've recently programmed it to trigger the building-wide intercom system, just in case the day ever arrived that I was in trouble and couldn't reach the regular controls. Shall I?"  
  
"You've been learnin' blackmail from Eberts."  
  
"Absolutely. Now, if you don't mind...." she said, gesturing at the chair.  
  
"That's just creepy, ya know that?" Bobby commented, desperately trying to stall. When her expression didn't soften in the least, he turned on his best Darien impression. "Aw, c'mon.... don't make me...."  
  
"Building-wide. Everyone, including the Official, is about to know your middle name.... all your middle names I should say." she threatened. Finally Bobby began to move, very slowly, toward where Claire waited. "You can afford to expend a little more energy than that."  
  
Reluctantly, he complied and finally reached the chair, climbing up into it with a fearful, mildly outraged expression.  
  
"It ain't my fault my mom was a Shakespeare freak an' my granddad was a preacher!"  
  
"I never said it was. I just wanted to make clear that I was perfectly willing to take utterly unfair advantage of your family's eccentricities and bad taste. Alright, before we go any further, you will tell me what that fuss was all about. You've never given me such a problem over a simple physical before."  
  
"Simple? You got a strange way with words...."  
  
"Bobby.... I'm sorry, alright? I explained to you...."  
  
"You explained, yeah, but it don't make sense. You don't like the Official's orders anymore than we do. Suddenly he says somethin' an' you drop an' give him twenty. How come?"  
  
"For once he made sense, Bobby. Being over forty puts you at higher risk for cancer and several other things. A hernia exam can uncover more than just that, you know. Every other male agent in your age group will have to suffer the same indignity, so resign yourself, alright? As for why I won't be conducting the exam.... well, I hate to admit it, but he was right about that too. If something grave were to show up in your tests I'm far too close to you to be objective. I'd find it almost impossible to even tell you, never mind help you explore your options... I just can't." she added gently as Darien strolled in and stopped on the other side of Bobby from where Claire stood.  
  
"I'm sorry, man, really. I meant to be here when she told you but the fat man hung me up for an hour tryin' to get me to tell him more than was in my report or yours. Claims he can't authorize payment for another agent in therapy unless he knows the whole story. Jackass..."  
  
"What'd you end up tellin' him?"  
  
"Not half as much as he wanted to know. I said if he won't pay for the treatment, I'll do it myself. He doesn't want me to go. I could see it in his beady little eyes. All he sees is one more stain on the Agency reputation; one more thing for the FBI an' the rest of the acronym squad to laugh about. He thought if he used the money excuse, I'd back down. Boy did he get a surprise."  
  
"Cheryl's not cheap, buddy. If he makes good on that threat...."  
  
"I'll work it out with her somehow. We'll deal with that later if it comes up. We're supposed to be talkin' about you right now. You givin' poor Claire a hard time?"  
  
"Damn right! Nobody's touched my.... you know, since Viv, an' I ain't breakin the streak now!"  
  
"You have to trust me, Bobby. Betsy Young is one of the kindest, gentlest physicians I've ever worked with and she's a wonderful person...."  
  
"You could get Mother Theresa in here an I wouldn't let her... It's just..... I'm not lettin' some stranger.... I've had enough humiliation an' embarrassment to last two lifetimes. Forget it."  
  
Darien leaned in a little and stared directly into Bobby's eyes.  
  
"Bobby. Before we found each other, neither one of us thought much about this kinda thing. Duckin' bullets or stayin' outta jail was pretty much all the health care we had time to worry about. Right?"  
  
"I guess. Yeah, except for the regular blood-work that's part an' parcel a'my meds, you're pretty much right on."  
  
"It's different now. We've got a little girl; someone to stay healthy for. I want us both to be there when she turns twenty-five. Don't tell me you're not livin' for the day she walks into the fat man's office an' makes her own decision whether to sign a paper or spit in his wrinkled, liver- spotted face."  
  
Darien's description conjured up an image of Jabba the Hutt for Bobby and he laughed, in spite of his fear and concern.  
  
"You know I am, Fawkes."  
  
"Then chill out, okay? I know it's not gonna be a party, but we're doin' this for Bobbi."  
  
"We? Who said anything about we?"  
  
"I did. I know I'm young yet an' I know Claire keeps my skinny bod in top shape, but with everything I've been goin' through the past year and a half, I don't wanna take chances. Besides, I didn't want you to have to suffer alone. So? How about it? We doing this?"  
  
"Crap.... you make a good case, kid, but...."  
  
"I'll be right here to help you through it. I swear."  
  
"I know. That's what I'm thinkin' about. I'm gonna need somebody's hand to grab onto.... probably crush, but all we've done is.... no way we're ready to...."  
  
"Oh. Okay.... You're right. Way too much exposure at this point. Ummm...."  
  
"I have an idea that will solve that problem. You...." Claire intoned darkly, pointing at Bobby. "are not to leave. I expect to find you right in that spot when I come back. Understood?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
"While I'm gone, you might as well get into the gown. It's right there on the end of the chair."  
  
"No way! No changin' room, nowhere to hide...."  
  
"Darien will turn his back, I'm sure." Claire told him as she opened the door and stepped out. When she discovered her colleague outside about to touch the chime, Claire greeted her with quiet enthusiasm and encouraged the redheaded newcomer to enter.  
  
"Good to see you, Betsy. Go on in. You can help with containment."  
  
"Agent Hobbes eager to bolt is he?"  
  
"The first chance he gets. I had to use blackmail."  
  
"The doctor's most valuable tool." The other woman laughed, hugging Claire briefly. "I'll keep an eye on him. Where are you headed?"  
  
"To find a portable privacy screen. Bolt his shoes to the floor if you have to. I'll be back as soon as I can."  
  
"I'll save you some time. There's one in the lab just down the hall."  
  
"You're a life-saver! Thank you!"  
  
"No problem. Get going."  
  
Claire dashed off and Betsy ambled into the Keep, making sure the door was closed behind her. "Morning, gentlemen. Betsy Young." She said cheerily, extending her hand as she neared the couple. Darien grasped it quickly; Bobby stared at it but refused to offer his hand in return. "Mmm- hmm. Now I know which is which." she chuckled.  
  
"Hi. Just for the sake of courtesy, I'm Darien Fawkes. That's Bobby Hobbes. Don't pay any attention to his completely rude behavior." Darien commented, elbowing Bobby in an effort to get him to loosen up. "He's a little.... nervous."  
  
"Nervous?! Try freakin' terrified..." the smaller man mumbled.  
  
"Bobby, I told you it's okay. I'm not goin' anywhere...."  
  
"Please. Who wouldn't be scared?" she admitted, claiming a stool near the foot of the admin. chair and setting the small bag she carried by her left foot. "I'll be the first to admit how embarrassing and uncomfortable this can be. Trust me, I understand, but it's only fair. We had to find some way to get revenge for men inventing the specialty of gynecology."  
  
Darien turned away, blushing intensely and laughing like a loon. Bobby was guffawing so hard he nearly fell off the chair. When he finally recovered, he sat forward, pulling one leg in close to his body, and faced Betsy eye to eye.  
  
"Okay. So you've got a decent sense of humor. What else do I need to know before I let you just.... do this?"  
  
"About me or the exam?"  
  
"Either. You choose."  
  
"How about a little of both? I've been working here since about 1993. Before that I was a G.P., but I felt like I wanted a more personal connection with my patients. I wanted to feel like I was really making a difference for individuals, not HMO's."  
  
"Personal connection." Darien snickered. "I guess that's one way to put it."  
  
Bobby elbowed his fiancée this time, though with more force than he'd received.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Quit interruptin' and quit with the questionable comments, okay? Go on, doc."  
  
"Betsy, please. I prefer most people to use my first name. The ones I like anyway, and you two are definitely in that category. I knew the minute I saw you both. Let's see, where was I? Oh, right. I talked to an old professor of mine who turned me on to medical service for the government and nine years later, here I am. Oh, and I also sing karaoke and I hold a J.P. license. That's Justice of the Peace for the uninitiated."  
  
Darien and Bobby both gazed intently at her then turned their eyes to each other, slow smiles blossoming on their faces.  
  
"You thinkin'..." Bobby began.  
  
"Maybe. Let's get past this first."  
  
"Yeah, right. We may not...."  
  
"No, but I get a feelin'..."  
  
"Me too. I mean we're never..."  
  
"It's real....  
  
"....unlikely. Yeah. Definite maybe."  
  
"Definite."  
  
Throughout the rapid, truncated conversation, Betsy simply kept looking from one to the other, growing more and more bewildered. When they finally finished, she blinked rapidly once or twice and finally spoke up.  
  
"Translation into English if noone minds terribly?"  
  
"Sorry. We've been tryin' not to do that so much. It freaks people out. A friend of ours calls it shorthand speech. See, as partners, we're so close sometimes it just.... happens."  
  
"We'll give you the gist of it later." Bobby demurred. "Let's see how this.... exam goes first. Then, we might have some stuff to talk about. For now...."  
  
Over the next few minutes, Betsy explained the basics of the procedure to both men and watched their eyes grow wider and wider. When Claire returned, the readhead paused to greet her friend then returned to her conversation with the men.  
  
"That.... that's it, huh?" Darien forced out.  
  
"As I said, it sounds scary but it isn't that bad. In my hands, that part of the checkup will be easy as pie. Over in no time"  
  
"In your hands.... yeah, right. Funny." Bobby commented grimly.  
  
" So. Who's first?"  
  
"What's on second?" Darien joked, producing a tiny smile.  
  
"Nice try, Darien." Claire complimented from just behind Betsy.  
  
"I had to give it a shot or you wouldn't know it was me."  
  
"True. Bobby? You go to the back of the lab and get into that gown."  
  
"Oh, no! Not with...."  
  
"You weren't about to say with ladies in the room, were you? I know you're not going to tell me you're a unicorn magnet, Mister Hobbes. I wouldn't believe it even if you did." Betsy teased.  
  
"Not exactly. Well, not in every way...."  
  
Claire's eyes widened in surprise and she clamped her lips closed on a laugh. Darien clamped his hand over Bobby's mouth.  
  
"Hobbes! She doesn't need to know everything.... Man."  
  
"Hey, you can't get much more personal with a guy than she's about to get. I figured her knowin' that was no big deal." Bobby countered as he rose to his feet and moved to the other side of the lab. "Go on. All of ya. Turn around."  
  
The others obligingly did as he'd requested. Betsy looked at the floor for a moment, then turned her gaze on Darien.  
  
"So.... that's what the excitement over me being a JP was all about. You two are a couple."  
  
"Yeah, but really, let's talk about it later, okay?"  
  
"That's fine. I should have seen it right off. The... what did you call it, shorthand? That makes a lot more sense now. So cool...."  
  
"Glad you think so. Just... right now I'm havin' a hard enough time tryin' to focus on what's goin' on in the moment, never mind a few months in the future."  
  
"Sorry. I understand." She said, grinning. "I've never actually done a commitment ceremony, but I have no objection. Feel free to call if...."  
  
"Betsy, do I have to clap a hand over *your* mouth to get you to stop?" Claire interrupted. "You'll have to pardon her. She's absolutely incorrigible sometimes!"  
  
"I noticed. Makes her a good match for the three of us, doesn't it?"  
  
"Now that you mention it.... yes." Claire giggled.  
  
"Okay." Bobby announced warily from the other side of the room. "I guess.... I'm ready."  
  
As his partner approached the chair again, one hand clasped tightly behind him to hold the gown together, Darien smiled brightly and moved to meet Bobby, touching his face gently.  
  
"It's gonna be fine. I'm right here. We have to do this, you know that, right? Bobbi needs both of us healthy and strong."  
  
Hobbes stared up at his fiancée and laid his free hand over the one cradling his jaw.  
  
"You gonna call Cheryl back?"  
  
Darien stiffened slightly and his smile wavered.  
  
"It's only been a couple days since.... I need time."  
  
"An' Captain Kirk beamed your homework up to the Enterprise for the Tribbles to do their business on...."  
  
"Bobby, it's different, an' you know damn well..."  
  
"It's not different. Strong an' healthy, you said. That means in every possible way. Are you gonna call her?"  
  
"Yeah. I'll call her when we're done here, okay, super-noudge?"  
  
"More than okay." Bobby responded, placing a swift, light kiss on the corner of Darien's mouth and moving around him to climb back onto the admin. chair which had now been flattened out into an exam table. "Get that screen set up, Claire. We ain't married yet an' he don't see nothin' below the neck until I hear some vows outta him." Bobby joked tensely.  
  
"Even after the wedding it's gonna be a long while before we get anywhere near.... bumpin' booty."  
  
"Darien!" Claire admonished as she finished placing the screen around the chair. "Remind me to spend a few hours introducing you to a dictionary. Your general knowledge is impressive but your vocabulary certainly could use some work."  
  
"Just 'cause I don't talk like I just graduated from Harvard? Big deal.... People who're always throwin' eleven letter words into their conversations are just showin' off...."  
  
Bobby suddenly drew in a sharp breath, causing Darien to immediately refocus his attention. Bobby slipped one had through a gap between the screen and the frame and Darien gripped it tightly.  
  
"Hobbes. You okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. Nothin' but a cold stethescope."  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm right here for you, okay? Try an' relax. It'll be over soon."  
  
"Yeah.... so you say... " Bobby retorted.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
90 MINUTES LATER  
  
"Damn. " Bobby complained quietly to Darien as they perched side by side on the chair. His gaze flicked momentarily to Betsy and Claire standing on the other side of the room, then returned to his knee, where his hand and Darien's lay entwined. "I think I'm kinda... confused. There was a time when I woulda given anything if a woman.... That just felt.... wrong. Really, really wrong..."  
  
"I know. I... I kept thinkin' I should be feeling something... anything. All I felt was cold; cold and sorta.... grimy. I just wanna forget the past hour an' an half ever happened." he replied, pushing away the thought of anyone but Bobby touching him that intimately. Slowly, the idea began to stimulate his imagination and his body took the hint. Embarrassed, he reluctantly derailed the pleasant train of thought, forcing himself to relax and the unwanted reaction to subside. Sighing, Darien rose to his feet and stretched. "I'm gonna need at least an hour of yoga an' a long hot bath when we get home tonight."  
  
"Me too." Bobby agreed. When Darien glanced at him, eyes wide, he responded quickly. "Not together!"  
  
"No! 'Course not. Not yet anyway...."  
  
"Like I said, goofball, after the wedding. *Way* after."  
  
"Will you at least wash my hair again? That did me so much good last time..."  
  
Bobby paused in thought for a moment, then looked up at Darien hopefully.  
  
"Mutual? I'll show you how. It's not that hard."  
  
"Yeah! I've been really hoping you'd offer."  
  
Unfortunately, the two women chose that moment to stroll back over and join the men, receiving a very skewed impression of what little they overheard.  
  
"You said you weren't doing anything beyond an occasional kiss...." Claire said, laughing.  
  
"Get your mind outta the gutter, Keepie! We're talkin' about washin' each others hair..." Bobby reproached her, turning away from the conversation when he heard someone rush into the Keep.  
  
"Albert? What is it? You look upset."  
  
"It's the Official. He wants to see all of us in his office immediately. Apparently Alex took it on herself to search out the records of...."  
  
Realizing someone unknown to him was in the room, Eberts halted suddenly. Betsy took her cue, grabbed her now packed up equipment, gave Claire a quick hug and left, handing Darien a business card as she hurried out.  
  
"Alright, Ebes. Keep goin'. What's up?" Bobby encouraged.  
  
"After the birth, Charles was quite upset about my interference in the matter of Roberta Claire. He never bothered to read the pregnancy diaries you gave him, considering the matter closed. If he had read them... this trouble would have erupted long before now."  
  
"What trouble? What happened?"  
  
"I think I can guess. " Claire replied. "He didn't read them, but Alex has?"  
  
"Unfortunately for us.... yes. She discovered a notation you made about the monitor tattoo. It was obscure, but she's so bright.... she simply filled in the blanks, made an assumption...."  
  
"And took it straight to the Official. Damn...."  
  
"You mean... they know you gave me the cure?" Darien asked, his face pale.  
  
"They think they know." Claire corrected him.  
  
"They'll have their confirmation in a few minutes I'm afraid."  
  
Abruptly, Darien moved from fear to anger.  
  
"Monroe... oh, bitch, you are so about to get damaged...." he growled, pushing the ordeal of the morning to the back burner in favor of a chance to get his hands on Alex. Bobby, fortunately, stopped him before he'd even taken two steps away from the chair..  
  
"Fawkes, no! There's nothin' they can do now. It's too late an' the gruesome twosome have to know that. Trust me, I'd never let anything happen to Claire or you or Bobbi."  
  
"Oh, I trust you. That doesn't mean Alex an' I aren't gonna have a little impolite conversation...." Darien said, lurching forward in an attempt to get away.  
  
"Stop! You know they're just lookin' for a reason to slap you down! You can't give that to 'em, you hear me? You gotta promise me you won't touch Monroe. Promise me, damn it!"  
  
"Okay. For your sake.... I promise I won't lay a pinky finger on her, but she even looks at me sideways..."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((  
  
TBC..... 


	12. Mad Season: Part Two

A Wedding Song 12: Mad Season -- Part 2 PG-13 for one bad word. ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
The moment they entered the office, Darien moved straight for Alex, tossing aside an inconvenient chair in the process, and backing her against a wall, one hand on either side of her head.  
  
"Okay." He spoke quietly, deliberately projecting menace and warm breath into her face. "So now you know. I'm not ever gonna go QSM again. Now all you have to worry about are the hands that were strong enough to break Liz Rendell's wrist.... and are most *definitely* strong enough to snap your neck...."  
  
"Darien!" Claire yelled from somewhere behind him as she righted the chair he'd overturned.  
  
"Enough, Fawkes! Get the hell over here!" Bobby added, wrapping one arm around Darien's waist and dragging him away forcibly. After a brief struggle, Hobbes was able to get his partner seated beside Claire, but it didn't last long. In a moment, Darien was back on his feet again but Bobby glared him back down.  
  
"Look, quit it, willya? Sit! Now stay."  
  
"That's right. Be a good puppy and maybe you'll get a Milk Bone." Alex taunted. Darien made it halfway to his full height again before Hobbes intervened, this time with gentleness and loving words.  
  
"Damn it, stop listenin' to her!" Bobby exhorted, kneeling in front of Darien. "I'll handle Monroe. If you hurt her the fat man'll toss you in lockup, you know that. Don't be an idiot, okay love? Relax."  
  
"I don't care. Seein' her head split wide open is worth a jail cell...."  
  
"Not jail, I mean padded lock-up, right here at the Agency. He'll do it an' never think twice. No me, no home, no Bobbi.... for months maybe. I know the place makes you feel better some times.... but only when the door's not locked, right? Don't give him a reason to lock the door... Chill out."  
  
"Okay. For you an' the baby."  
  
"Thanks, babe...." Bobby murmured, sliding his arms around Darien's neck in a grateful embrace then taking his place in the third chair ranked before the desk.  
  
"Someone find me a bucket. I'm about to be sick." Alex mumbled disgustedly.  
  
"You.... need to not flap your gums right now 'cause I'm on the thin edge of rippin' your teeth out of 'em with my bare hands." Bobby warned her.  
  
"Oooh, scary. Lithium Bob and the de-clawed pussy. Big deal."  
  
"You forget Vegas already, bitch? The handprint I left on your face shoulda lasted a couple days at least. Long enough for somebody to ask about it anyway."  
  
"Pancake makeup does wonders...."  
  
"Alright, that's it! Both of you shut up!" the Official roared. "Alex, heel! Hobbes, you speak only when spoken to, understood?"  
  
Bobby nodded. "Good. Anymore out of either of you and there'll be sanctions for everyone. We'll discuss your alleged assault on a fellow agent at a later time. For now... back to business. Fawkes, show me your tattoo."  
  
"Give me a reason."  
  
"Excuse me? Did I not just threaten sanctions?"  
  
"What, you gonna slap my hand and call me a bad boy? Send me to bed without supper?"  
  
"Let me clarify. Did I not just threaten two weeks suspension without pay?"  
  
His expression grave, Darien stood, walked to the desk and turned his wrist over so the now defunct markings could be clearly seen.  
  
"Satisfied?"  
  
The Official nodded and Darien returned to his seat, giggling inwardly on seeing Alex move back a single cautious step at his approach.  
  
"Doctor. What have you done?"  
  
"Saved a man's life and probably my Godchild's life as well. If I hadn't administered the serum, Darien's immunity to the serum would have continued to grow until he was in permanent stage five madness. I wasn't about to allow...."  
  
"You were well aware of the procedure should you ever develop a formula like this, were you not?"  
  
"Of course. I was to bring the information to you first."  
  
"And you ignored that edict because...."  
  
"At the time you were acting like a jack-ass of the first order. Coming to you with information vital to the survival of Darien or the baby wasn't an option."  
  
"So instead you decided to ensure the death of this Agency?"  
  
"Wait a minute. You're ignorin' somethin' yourself there, fish."  
  
"Don't call me that. Alright. Just for the sake of curiosity, what am I ignoring, Fawkes?"  
  
"Nothin' much. Just the fact that I've been free of the counter-agent for almost six an' a half months.... an' I'm still here."  
  
"Which means....."  
  
"It means I have rent, utilities, a car loan to pay off an' a family to help support. I'm not goin' anywhere unless you force me to."  
  
"Family?! Please! Hobbes may technically be a biological father, but *you* are not a mother..." Alex put in.  
  
"I did give birth, Alex." Darien responded hotly. "What would you call me, a table lamp? Am I a T.V. stand, now?"  
  
"You know what I call you?! A freak of nature...."  
  
"Agent Monroe." The Official intoned, his voice low and intense. "Get out. I don't want to see you here for the next two weeks."  
  
"What?! I didn't..."  
  
"You were warned to keep your comments to yourself. Out. Go find somewhere to cool off, go get drunk, I don't really care. Just go."  
  
After a final, enraged glare at Darien, Alex stormed out of the office, pausing at the door only long enough to accept Darien's parting shot.  
  
"Just a warning, Alex? A de-clawed lion is still a big cat, with all his teeth. You might wanna stop stickin' your head in his mouth, 'cause if you get it hurt, it's gonna make you look real stupid.... an' noone's gonna blame the lion."  
  
"Darien, that was completely unnecessary." Claire chided.  
  
"Hell it was. I feel a hundred percent better an' I don't want her havin' even the slightest excuse to whine about bein' surprised when I break her jaw for her."  
  
"You will not."  
  
"A couple ribs?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Can I flick her in the nose for God's sake?"  
  
"That's a possibility." Bobby mused thoughtfully. "It'd make a nice distraction while you sneak in a body shot..."  
  
"Bobby, you stop encouraging him!"  
  
"Thrill-kill."  
  
"Fawkes, can we please get back to the subject at hand?"  
  
"Far as I'm concerned, there's nothin' to talk about. I told you my side of the story."  
  
"That's if I believe you."  
  
Do or don't. I can't bother to care either way. I like helpin' people. This job lets me do that and gives me a paycheck that helps keep food on the table. You get to stop payin' for production of counteragent *plus* you don't have to worry about me goin' QS crazy. It's a good deal for both of us."  
  
"On the surface."  
  
Darien laughed darkly as he stood, preparing to leave.  
  
"An' you call Bobby paranoid? Look, it's like I said; I won't go unless you make me. That means you muzzle the wicked witch an' keep her on a short leash and you leave my family alone, including my daughter's Godparents. You comin', Bobby?"  
  
"Right behind ya, babe."  
  
The Official frowned and stared after the retreating pair. His mouth opened, then closed again, as if he were trying to decide whether or not to say something. They were almost out the door when he finally spoke.  
  
"Darien, wait. Could I.... I don't even know what you decided to name the child."  
  
"Uh-uh. It's not that easy. You earn your way off the number one spot on my shit list, bud. You might not know her name until she walks in here at twenty-five years old, ready to either sign a contract or blow you off. I'll leave both choices up to her."  
  
"You mean you'd let her.... I assumed...."  
  
"She'll be an adult then. Her life, her decision. I signed that paper, I'll stick to what it says. In case you didn't realize it.... I'm nothing like you. So what do you think about Monroe, Hobbes? Nose flick to distract her, then bust a rib?" Darien asked as they strolled out.  
  
"Nah. Too fast, not painful enough. Nose flick, break the cheekbone, dislocate the jaw, do the collarbone an' work down from there...."  
  
The Official watched them go with an expression of mild fear and sadness which he quickly suppressed.  
  
"One of these days they really are going to hurt her, aren't they?"  
  
"After what the two of you tried to do, how could you expect anything less?"  
  
"Anything I did was for the good of the Agency. That child is nothing but a distraction from their work...."  
  
"Except for a day or two here and there, before last week neither of them has missed a minute and you know that! With Eberts and I here they have built in day care and no distractions whatsoever!"  
  
"Two more employees not doing what they were hired to do. Thank you for making my point, doctor. Since you brought it up, let's discuss last week, shall we? Fawkes practically admitted it was fear and rage for his own child that made him storm those last two locations alone. He could have been killed. As it was, we lost four children that should have been saved."  
  
"Don't you dare try and blame him for those children dying! You know how hard he's still taking it...."  
  
"Again, you make my point. He lets his emotions cloud his judgment. Anger and fear have no place in dangerous field situations, or on assignment period. I was an agent once myself, but I never let concerns about my children interfere...."  
  
" *You* didn't give *birth* to any of your children! You didn't spend eight months feeling them grow inside you, or.... Ahhh!" Claire groaned in frustration. "You'll never understand, will you? You will never be able to see what a heinous, inhuman act you nearly committed."  
  
Rising suddenly, Claire paced back and forth once then faced the Officials desk, slapping her hands down loudly on its surface and leaning forward. "You gave him the gland! You placed a piece of bio-technology with unknown capacity and limitless possibilities inside a living being with exactly the same qualities. When one of those unknowns comes back to bite you in your oversized ass, you're not allowed to tell Darien it's completely his fault and suddenly start making decisions for him as if you know what's best when you haven't a bloody clue!"  
  
"You're the one who doesn't understand. What it takes to keep this place afloat.... what I've sacrificed to build a functioning government agency here...."  
  
"You can sacrifice anything you damn well please, as long as it's yours," Claire told him, finally stepping back. "but from now on, keep your filthy hands off what doesn't belong to you! Darien and Bobby's child is *not*, I repeat, *not* a human chess piece you can just move where it will do the most good or... or allow to be swept off the board because it suits your strategy!"  
  
"That's what pawns are for."  
  
"Yes, well I wouldn't count yourself a king until you've survived the trip across the field of play. Even if you did make it, you might remember that regicide is a time-honored form of governmental overthrow."  
  
"Is that a threat, doctor?"  
  
"Take it however you like. I'll leave you with something to think about. For the moment, Darien's content to stay here and work for you, despite how much he loathes you, and his terms are more than reasonable. Refuse them and he's free to move anywhere in the country or the world on a moments notice and his family would go with him."  
  
"Including you and Eberts?"  
  
"Quite likely. For the most part, Darien and Bobby's work here has been exemplary, both before and after the baby's arrival. It's all in the records if you care to look. All Darien is asking is that you leave them alone to live their lives as they see fit. Be their employer, not their judge. It's not such a difficult request to grant."  
  
"I suppose if I want the gland to stay under my control.... I'd better make the effort hadn't I?"  
  
"Good choice, Charles. Good choice."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Peering around a corner, Alex watched Bobby and Darien leave the office, walking close together, their inside hands tightly linked. She felt the fury inside her flare up, felt it destroying a little more of her humanity and she welcomed the sensation.  
  
{Me? Suspend me? He threatens my life not two feet from your nose and you do nothing, but I express a little normal indignation and I get suspended.... we'll see, Charlie. I'm not one of your top agents for nothing....}  
  
When Claire exited the office a few minutes later, Alex prepared to turn away, having no real interest in the scientist. She changed her mind abruptly when Claire was stopped by one of the morgue techs. The shock in her voice at whatever paperwork the man was showing her drew Alex's attention and she stayed to listen.  
  
"What? This can't be possible. It just can't...."  
  
"It is, Doctor Westerfield. I'm afraid there's no possibility of error. The tests were triple checked."  
  
"But he was only two when he was here last... how can this be right?"  
  
"If you'll look here, doctor, you'll see there was one compound we couldn't identify. We think it's some new kind of super growth factor, but none of us have ever seen anything like this before...."  
  
"No. With Chrysalis and Jared Stark involved you wouldn't have. Damn... don't take insult at this, but I'm going to come down and re-run the tests myself. I have to be absolutely sure before I go to Alex with this."  
  
"No insult, doctor. I expected as much...."  
  
As the tech and Claire moved quickly away down the hall, Alex closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists until blood began to seep out between her fingers and patter on the carpet at her feet. When her eyes opened once more, it was obvious her sanity had abandoned her, and even those who thought they knew her wouldn't have come within ten feet of her, fearing what was no longer behind her eyes.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC.......... 


	13. Mad Season: Part Three

A Wedding Song 13: Mad Season -- Part 3  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE FOLLOWING THURSDAY  
  
I didn't want to believe it either, sir, but the tests are conclusive. The boy that Darien was forced to shoot was Alex's son James."  
  
"How can that be possible? He was, what... a year old when we last saw him?"  
  
"Just about. Apparently, Chrysalis has developed a super-speed growth formula *and* worked out a way around most of the skeletal and genetic mutations that should reasonably come with such an... experiment."  
  
Claire spat the last word in obvious distaste.  
  
"Why? Why would he do this to his own child?"  
  
"I have a theory. It turns my stomach, but it's the only logical reason I could come up with."  
  
"Go on. "  
  
"I think he's been anticipating Alex kicking over the traces and beginning a search for James. He administered the chemical to the boy so Alex wouldn't know her child, even if she did eventually find him."  
  
"She'd be out looking for a two year old, not an eight year old. Dear God... Well, did the autopsy show any reason at all why James would have been placed in this suicide scenario?"  
  
"As I said, they'd solved *most* of the mutations.... When Darien confronted him in that warehouse, James was already dying. If left alone, he would have been gone within another week or two at most. Perhaps in some twisted, sick way... Stark thought he was being kind. At the rate James was deteriorating, a natural death would have been intolerable."  
  
"Have you contacted Alex yet?"  
  
"No. I've been agonizing over how I'm going to tell her. She's so close to the edge as it is...."  
  
"It won't be easy. The loss of a child... It's so difficult to know what to say...."  
  
"Oh, you mean you didn't have a speech prepared for Darien and Bobby? You were just going to improvise? How spontaneous and free-spirited of you." Claire remarked acidly as she rose and moved away.  
  
"Damn it, Claire.... don't expect me to crawl and kiss your feet when I did what I thought was right. I made a command decision. Just because I was blackmailed into changing my mind doesn't mean that decision was a mistake."  
  
"You hypocrite." Claire forced out, her throat full of sour, burning fluid. "I thought you were simply agreeing with me.... but you understand Jared Stark. I see it now. You haven't just been fighting Chrysalis all these years. You've been learning from Stark... studying to become just like him. Congratulations. You've succeeded."  
  
Claire turned back and slowly walked out of the office, leaving the Official immobile at his desk, stunned and unable to speak.  
  
------------------------------------  
  
"Alex, please... this really is vital. We need to talk."  
  
"Vital to who? You? As if I care. I still have a week to go on my suspension and I'm spending every minute of it in my apartment, alone."  
  
"I have information for you. Something's come up you have to know about... but I don't feel right telling you over the phone."  
  
"Sounds like bad news and I've had enough of that in the past two years to last until I'm dead and buried. Keep it."  
  
"It's about James."  
  
Alex now took a keen interest. The conversation she'd heard Claire having with one of her assistants a week before suddenly replayed in her head. She realized some part of her had been waiting for this call to come.  
  
"They've found him. He was with the children Hobbes and Fawkes rescued."  
  
"Yes, in a manner of speaking... Alex, please say you'll meet me after work for an early dinner. Ma Maison? Five o'clock?"  
  
"Alright. I'll be there."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
By five-thirty, Claire was starting work on a second margarita and waiting anxiously for Alex to show up. When she saw her colleague enter she stood and Alex found her way to the table quickly.  
  
"Alex. It's good to see you. How have you been?"  
  
"I've been suspended for exercising my right to free speech. How should I be doing?"  
  
"Of course. Please, sit. Would you like a drink?"  
  
"A beer."  
  
Claire summoned a waitress, orders were placed and the young woman hurried away, her expression broadcasting that whatever she saw in Alex's gaze, she desired to stay a safe distance from it.  
  
"I'm sorry, Alex. I can't imagine...."  
  
"Forget it. I'm dealing with it."  
  
"Everything that's happened.... it isn't Darien's fault, you know. It certainly isn't the responsibility of an innocent child..."  
  
"Do you really want to go there? Hmmm? Do you *really* want to hear my opinion, Claire?"  
  
"I won't apologize for being able to see both sides of this issue, Alex. I also won't confess to being a traitor for staying close to Eberts and the boys. This pregnancy wasn't planned, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the child has been born and she's not going away. Have you allowed yourself to become so cold and so bitter that you can hate a tiny baby who did nothing to deserve it?"  
  
"That's enough, Claire. Either give me the information on my son or I'll pull out my weapon and shoot you in the heart and I don't care what happens afterward."  
  
Claire paled dramatically and dropped her eyes for a few seconds, struggling to compose herself. In response, Alex blanched as well. "Claire? What is it? Tell me, now, or I swear..."  
  
"This is so difficult.... I wish I didn't have to do this.... I wish it with all my heart. James... he was among the children Bobby and the others went after... but he.... he was one of the three boys that we couldn't save.... I'm so sorry, Alex."  
  
"No.... that's a lie.... you're a liar...."  
  
"I'd give anything for it not to be, true, you have to believe that. I'd bring him back if I could...."  
  
"How did he...."  
  
"Shot, like the others."  
  
Again, Claire's eyes dipped momentarily. Alex caught the guilty body language and suddenly knew the truth the scientist was trying to hide from her.  
  
"Oh.... oh God, no... the one Fawkes murdered.... son of a bitch... it can't be...God, please no...."  
  
"Darien wouldn't murder anyone, least of all a child! You read the case file, Alex. It was self-defense, pure and simple....."  
  
Her color moving swiftly from sickly white to brilliant crimson, Alex tottered to her feet. Before Claire could react, the other woman punched her in the jaw, knocking the blonde backwards onto the floor. Moving to stand over Claire, Alex glared down at her, delivered a vicious kick to the ribs and another blow to the face and stalked out of the restaurant.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TWO HOURS LATER: OUTSIDE THE MERCY HOSPITAL ER  
  
"Claire?! What the hell..."  
  
"I'm alright, Bobby. It might not look it, but I am...."  
  
Leaping out of the SUV, Hobbes ran to where Claire stood and held out his arms. She fell into his embrace, sniffling and valiantly holding back her tears. After a few minutes of comfort, Bobby finally pulled back a little and took a good look at her.  
  
"Damn... who did this to you? I'll smack 'em so hard they'll be eatin' nothin' but Farina for a month..."  
  
"It doesn't matter. Just take me home."  
  
"It does matter, Claire. Talk to me."  
  
"In the truck. I'll tell you everything.... I just want to go. Please?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Bobby helped her step up into the vehicle and carefully buckled her in. On the way, she laid out the story for him, condensing it in places, leaving out only the fact that it was James Darien had shot. Her heart told her he wasn't ready to handle it anymore than Alex had been. By the time they stopped, the pain medication the hospital had pressed on her was starting to take effect and it took her a few beats to realize they weren't parked in front of her house.  
  
"Bobby, no..."  
  
"Darien would kill me if I left you alone in that huge house tonight. You're stayin' here."  
  
"But...."  
  
"Forget it, okay? For once, you're the one who's banged up. Let us take care of you this time. You need help gettin' inside?"  
  
Groggy, Claire nodded sadly. When Bobby actually lifted her out of the passenger's side of the truck and proceeded to carry her into the apartment, she protested sleepily, but he ignored it. He put her down only for a moment while he unlocked and opened the door. Laying her gently on the couch, he went back to close and lock the door and shouted for his fiancée. "Darien! I need an ice-bag on the double. And some tea when you get a chance."  
  
"What did you do to yourself now... Claire! Holy..."  
  
"I know. Who and why later. Ice-bag?" Bobby repeated.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be right back."  
  
Once Darien had gone, Bobby perched on the edge of the couch, stroking Claire's blonde locks and speaking quietly, as she was almost asleep.  
  
"We're gonna find her, Claire, I promise. I'll tear the bitch's head off for this."  
  
"No.... James... she's grieving...."  
  
"That don't give her the right to take it out on you. I won't hurt her, okay? But she's gotta be found. She still has her gun. She could hurt somebody.... or herself."  
  
Claire tried to speak, but the meds pulled her under. Hobbes rose slowly and moved into the kitchen where Darien was working. "Forget the tea for now. The ice-bag should go in the freezer. She'll need it when she wakes up."  
  
"How bad is she hurt?"  
  
"Bumps and bruises mostly. Her ribs'll be sore for a while. Alex tried to cave 'em in."  
  
"Alex?"  
  
"Yeah. Come sit down at the table. It's a story an' a half..."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------  
  
TBC........ 


	14. Mad Season: Part Four

A Wedding Song 14--- Mad Season: Part Four  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
SIX DAYS LATER  
  
"You sure you can handle her today, Claire? If Eberts didn't have that family thing up in Carmel...."  
  
"I'm fine, Darien."  
  
"Your ribs are healin' alright? Bobbi can be a handful now she's figurin' out how to pull herself up." Hobbes asked her as he handed Roberta Claire to her Godmother.  
  
"I know. We'll both be fine. Go ahead to the briefing." By the way.... thank you for the other night. Having you both there to lean on made it all so much easier. I don't know how you knew.... but I wouldn't have felt safe alone at my place."  
  
"That's what friends are for, right? To know things." Darien quipped, dropping an air kiss near Claire's still faintly bruised left cheek. Bobby soundly kissed his daughter and the men strolled out.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
NOON: CHERYL'S OFFICE  
  
"I try. I just... it's still hard. I keep seein' the other one... nothing seems to make that image go away."  
  
"Do you think maybe making yourself hold Roberta is the key?"  
  
"No. No way. I... I can't even be near her. I know she'll feel how scared I am and I don't want her thinkin' I'm afraid of her. That wouldn't be fair."  
  
"Fair to who? Roberta Claire isn't the only one being affected by your fear, Darien. According to Bobby this is causing problems in your relationship with him as well."  
  
"I guess. He's gettin' frustrated. He thinks I'm not really tryin' to fix it."  
  
"I'd have to say I agree. In part at least."  
  
"What? C'mon. I'm here aren't I? If I wasn't gonna try, would I keep comin' to this office an' sittin' in the same stupid chair just to torture myself?"  
  
"You would if you thought it was what Bobby and your boss expected you to do."  
  
"I never do what everybody expects me to do. It's part of my charm." Darien smirked.  
  
"There's too much of that for your own good sometimes." Cheryl joked back.  
  
"Maybe. It's never let me down."  
  
"Until now."  
  
Darien sobered rapidly.  
  
"Okay.... so maybe I'm not exactly psyched about facin' this. Who would be? I mean... I got the blood of four innocent kids on my hands..."  
  
"Excuse me? I thought we got past this last week."  
  
Abruptly fascinated by the pattern in the oriental rug, Darien mumbled his answer.  
  
"Guess not."  
  
"Then we'll go over it and over it until you get it straight in your head. Let's start at the beginning."  
  
"Let's not."  
  
"Darien."  
  
"Okay, okay."  
  
"Did you brainwash any of those children?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you drive them to the locations where you found them?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you give any of them a gun?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did anybody give you a key word or phrase that would instantly counteract their programming?"  
  
"No."  
  
"So when that boy pointed his weapon directly at you, did you have any option other than defending yourself?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
This was not the answer Cheryl was expecting and definitely not the one he'd given her the last time they'd gone through this litany together. His response threw her, but she recovered quickly.  
  
"What option?"  
  
"I should have let him do it. His brain was scrambled.... he didn't know what he was doin'...."  
  
"From what you've told me, the two of you were on pretty equal footing as far as that goes."  
  
"So that gave me the right to put a bullet in a nine year old boy?!"  
  
"It gave you the right to preserve your life."  
  
"No.... no it didn't...."  
  
"So if you could go back and make the decision over again, you'd choose to leave your fiancée and your daughter alone? You'd choose to cause them unbearable pain just to ease your guilty conscience? Is that what you're telling me, Darien?"  
  
"You know it isn't...."  
  
"I do know that."  
  
"Then why ask a question like that? If you know how much I love the both of them why would you say..."  
  
"I'm just following you. I can only form questions based on what you tell me. What I hear you saying is that, given a second chance, you'd put the shooter's life ahead of your own."  
  
"No... no, no. I said I can't make peace with killing an innocent kid. That's what I said..."  
  
"And what about the other seven?" Cheryl asked, returning the favor by unnerving Darien.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I'm talking about the seven children that were still alive when you confronted the boy with the gun. If you had let him kill you, what would have happened to them?"  
  
"I... I don't.... there's no way of knowing..."  
  
"Of course there is. This is an easy one, Darien. Just answer the question."  
  
"They.... they would've died." Darien responded quietly.  
  
"That's right. He would have shot you down and then gone on to kill every one of those other children before he killed himself."  
  
"But... you don't understand.... at least.... I wouldn't have been responsible..."  
  
"Responsibility has more than one aspect to it, Darien. You're focusing on the wrong side of the equation. You need to stop obsessing on what you weren't able to do and look at what you accomplished. Four children died. Okay. That's tragic and it's unimaginable, but you're not seeing the rest of the picture. Do the math, Darien."  
  
Suddenly, Cheryl saw a new light slowly developing in Darien's desolate eyes as he processed her words. Despite how badly she wanted him to get the point she was driving home, she stayed silent and didn't help him further. She knew he had to come to his own conclusions or the truth would soon be fogged in by his doubts and fears and he would once again find excuses not to accept the absolution he needed so desperately.  
  
"Math.... you mean.....damn. We.... we saved forty-five kids."  
  
"Yes you did. Because of you and Bobby, forty-five children are living and breathing and are being given a second chance. You took a life in defense of your own. Ultimately you are responsible for that, but you're also responsible for the lives you didn't take. Which number are you going to let rule your life, Darien; the forty-five you rescued and the one little girl who's waiting at home for you, or the four who died?"  
  
"It's not that easy..."  
  
"It's not supposed to be. I never promised you easy. Let's switch topics for a while okay?"  
  
"Great. The only other thing we ever talk about is my family."  
  
"You're learning." Cheryl praised him, smiling. "If your mom could see you the way you are today, how do you think she'd react?"  
  
"I don't know. She'd love that I'm paintin' again. She used to love to watch me draw when I was little. She always told me how good I was.... how much natural talent I had. I remember... I lived to hear that from her. I like to think she'd be proud that I got past all the rebellion stuff an' I'm doin' something positive with my life now."  
  
"Rebellion." Cheryl said meaningfully, tipping her chin down to look at him over the top of her reading glasses. This was Darien's cue to rethink and rephrase and he took it with grace and humor.  
  
"Okay, okay. I wasn't exactly James Dean, but I wasn't John Gotti either. The point is, I got through it thanks to Kevin and Bobby. Now... I'm a good guy."  
  
"What about Kevin?"  
  
"You mean would he be proud? Yeah, I think so. One of my friends at the Agency showed me the report he sent in when he was tryin' to convince 'em to take me on. He used a lot more words than Hobbes ever did... longer ones too, but basically he told the bigwigs the same thing. I was a trained thief and a stubborn, independent, snot-nosed punk. Then... then he said that all that was on the surface. Underneath he knew I had a good heart, if somebody'd bother to drag it out of storage and give it a tune-up."  
  
"Your mom gave you life. Kevin saved it."  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
"And all the good you're doing now, do you see it as a tribute to them and their belief in you?"  
  
"I never thought about it that way.... but I guess so."  
  
"Now I understand why you're having such a hard time letting go of those kids. This is a ingrained habit."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"Living your life for people who aren't here anymore."  
  
Darien stared at Cheryl in mild horror for several seconds. His initial reaction turned to confusion, then to sadness as her point sank in. "You're such a survivor, Darien. You've come through losses that would have crushed other people. I can help you make it through this one too, if you'll only let me. I'm not saying that those four children should be wiped from your memory. The idea is to forgive yourself for what you *actually* did wrong, if anything, treasure what you've learned and let the rest go. Think about it and we'll talk more next week, okay?"  
  
"Yeah. You know, you got the weirdest way of makin' a point. It's like playin' Twister to follow you 'till you finally get somewhere."  
  
"Whatever works. As long as it gets the message through."  
  
"Not yet... but soon, I think. I'm outta here. See you Monday."  
  
"Have a good week."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Half an hour later, after a quick fast food meal, Darien was on the way back to the Agency to check in with Bobby and the Official. Wrung out from his session with Cheryl, he turned the radio up full blast, trying to drown out the relentlessly cycling thoughts in his brain. After a few minutes, he realized it was giving him nothing but a headache, so he turned it off just in time to hear his cell phone ring from deep in his jacket pocket. Pulling the car over, he flailed in the back seat for a minute or two, finally grasping his coat and pulling it into the front with him. Another few seconds and he had the phone to his ear.  
  
"Darien's House of Migraines and All-Night Chinese Buffet. Darien Fawkes speaking. Can I take your order?"  
  
The response was slow in coming, but when it did, the slurred speech pattern told him his caller was obviously drunk. It took him a few sentences and pieces of sentences to identify who was on the other end of the line.  
  
"Fawkes.... That name just doesn't fit you. I never thought it did. You're nothing like a fox. You're not cunning... or smart.... who the hell decided you get to keep that name?"  
  
"You're bombed, Monroe. Go find somewhere to sleep it off. Like face down in the Pacific." Darien growled, drawing the phone away from his face in preparation for hitting the disconnect button. Luckily, he caught Alex's next words before that happened.  
  
"Don't you dare hang up on me! You do and you'll never see them again, you bastard!"  
  
"Them? Who's them, Alex?" he asked, deliberately tempering all anger out of his voice.  
  
"Them! Your precious Claire and that... abomination you and Hobbes created! Who else would I be talking about?!"  
  
"Are they okay?"  
  
"For the moment. It depends on how fast you get back here, now doesn't it?"  
  
Grimly, Darien pulled back into traffic and raced off toward the Agency.  
  
"I'm on my way, Alex. Tell me what you want, okay? Anything you want, I'll pick it up on the way an' bring it you."  
  
"Pick it up on the way... damn, you think you're so funny. My son is not a gallon of milk! What I want.... what I need more than anything in the whole world you can't give me. Noone can...."  
  
"Okay. I get it now. This is about me havin' a child when you don't. This is about James..."  
  
"Don't you dare even speak his name! Don't you dare!"  
  
"Look, I'm sorry for how things worked out, Monroe, but none of that was my fault. I didn't make you give up your little boy...."  
  
"No...no, of course not. You just shot him point blank in the chest rather than bring him home to me... what, couldn't you stand the thought of someone else on this team having a child? You didn't want to give up all the attention... is that it?!"  
  
"Alex... back up. I don't understand..."  
  
"You don't have to. You killed my baby, you son of a bitch... if you haul ass back to the Agency, maybe you'll be in time to watch me kill yours."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((  
  
TBC..... 


	15. Mad Season: Conclusion

A Wedding Song 15: Mad Season --- Conclusion  
  
Mild R for language and violent content ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
A few panicked minutes later, Darien burst into the Official's office, interrupting a meeting. Pushing through the people seated before the desk, he grabbed his boss by both lapels and pulled him forward. The others attending the meeting scrambled to their feet and made a fast exit, leaving Charlie Borden at the mercy of his enraged employee.  
  
"Where is she, you bastard? You tell me now, or what you got from Simon Cole is gonna feel like a backrub...."  
  
"Fawkes! What the hell..."  
  
"I know you set this up! You told her to do this didn't you?! Where the hell is she?!"  
  
"Told who... to do what...." the Official choked out.  
  
Just then, Eberts rushed in, alerted by the sudden exodus from the office as he was about to join the group.  
  
"Darien! Stop! What's going on?"  
  
"Alex.... I was on the way back when she called me on the cell. She's holdin' Claire an' the baby hostage somewhere in the Agency.... she's gonna kill 'em..."  
  
"Dear God, no.... Wait. You can't think Charles had anything to do with this..."  
  
"Talk to me, Borden. Where's Alex, damn it? Where's she hidin' with my little girl?"  
  
"I swear... I don't know.... I didn't do this, Fawkes...."  
  
"Sure you did. It's what you've wanted all along, right Chuck? To know the only child I'll ever have was out of the way for good? That way your sick little world could go back to status quo and I'd be so lost in my grief I'd just do whatever you told me to. Not gonna happen...."  
  
"Darien, please. If Alex is in the building, I might have a way to find her, but you have to let Charles go and listen to me. Darien, we may not have much time. Please!"  
  
Reluctantly, Darien released the Official and turned to Eberts, drowning the other man in the tsunami of anger and fear that beamed from his eyes.  
  
"Okay. So show me."  
  
"Have you done a trace-back yet?"  
  
"Star 69? Why would I? It won't do any good and I really don't wanna talk to her again until I've got my hands around her throat an' she can't talk back..."  
  
"Trust me, alright? May I have your cell-phone?"  
  
Pulling it from his pants pocket, Fawkes handed it over. Grabbing his briefcase from where he'd dropped it by the door, Eberts lifted it onto a nearby table, opened it and powered up the laptop inside. He then produced a strange looking device and a cable and connected the phone to the computer.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"A small invention of mine. I knew I'd have use for it someday."  
  
After a minute or two of typing and waiting, he announced he was ready. "Now, do the trace-back, Darien." he told his friend, handing him the tethered phone.  
  
"Alex?"  
  
"Good for you freak. You know how to do more than turn the phone on and off."  
  
"You didn't tell me where you were, Monroe. How am I supposed to give myself up if I can't find you?"  
  
"I never said I wanted you, did I? What I *want* is for you to get here in time to see Freak Jr. and her precious little Godmother bleed to death. Hurry up and find me, asshole. My patience won't last much longer and neither will Claire."  
  
The dial-tone sounded ominously in his ear for the second time and Darien, in his frustration, nearly threw the phone across the room before he remembered that it was attached to Eberts' laptop.  
  
"Well? Did you get anything?"  
  
"Not as much as I'd hoped. She's somewhere below us, but I can't say exactly where. I can make an assumption..."  
  
'Make it, damn it. They could both be..."  
  
"I know, I know. Well, there's only one floor under us; the basement level. The assumption would be that she was in the Keep, but...."  
  
"Damn! Why couldn't I come up with that before? You grab more bodies and check out the other labs and exam rooms down there. I'll check the Keep."  
  
"Excellent thought. I'll do it immediately."  
  
The two men rushed out, leaving the Official immobile in his chair, caught between knowing he should accept some level of responsibility for Alex's breakdown and the familiar, powerful song of his ego, forever reassuring him he'd done nothing wrong. After a brief moment of indecision, Charles rose to his feet and followed the other two out, intent on assisting in the search, if only to catch a glimpse of the miracle child that was blithely dismembering his agency one bloody piece at a time.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Stealing up to the closed door of the Keep, Darien laid an ear against the steel and strained to hear what might be going on inside. For several seconds all he could make out were low voices, too quiet for him to make out the words, but a moment later a shot rang out and Claire screamed as if she were in unbearable agony. Turning away, Darien slammed a fist into the nearby wall, lowered his head and tried to calm his breathing, swiping ruthlessly at the tears in his eyes.  
  
{You're not dead, Claire. You're not dead... don't be dead. Oh, God....}  
  
Facing the door once again, Darien pounded on the metal and called out to Alex, praying his voice would hold and not betray his fear and anger.  
  
"Alex? I'm here. Open up. Lemme in, Alex so we can fix this, okay?"  
  
There was a brief pause, then the lock on the door disengaged and the heavy panel slowly slid open, revealing a scene Darien was not remotely ready to face. Claire was strapped to the administering chair, apparently only half conscious, but, to his immeasurable relief, still breathing. Copious blood soaked the lower half of her left pant-leg and dripped off her ankle to the floor, but otherwise she appeared to be alright.  
  
When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from this horrific sight, Darien found Alex perched on one of the rolling lab stools with Bobbi in her lap. For the moment at least, the child appeared to be calm and content, despite the pistol her captor was pressing into her ribcage.  
  
"What did you do to Claire?'  
  
"Relax, she'll survive. It's only her kneecap."  
  
"Why? Why would you shoot her..."  
  
"She tried to leave the party. Couldn't let her spoil the surprise before the guest of honor showed up, now could I?"  
  
"She's gotta be in pain. Let me give her something."  
  
"Excuse me? Pain is the point here, remember? You rip out my heart, I rip out yours. You destroy something I love...."  
  
Here Alex's finger tightened on the trigger. Darien responded instantly.  
  
"No! Damn it, think for a minute! The last time you saw J.... your little boy, he was what... a year? He'd only be two and a half now, at the most. All four of the kids I... I lost were older... way older. There's no way...."  
  
"Lost? Lost?! You didn't *misplace* four innocent lives, asshole! Three you allowed to die and one... my James you shot down in cold blood. You murdered my child!"  
  
"Alex, it isn't possible. It can't be true. It can't be...." Darien insisted, though his words shook as his confidence in them wavered.  
  
Abruptly, Alex stood, Bobbi dangling over one arm. Frantic, Darien sent a swift and silent missive to his daughter, urging her not to cry and reassuring her that he would find a way out of the volatile situation soon. When Monroe began to shout again, he focused on the redhead once more, vainly searching, waiting for the moment when her guard would fall even the slightest bit.  
  
"She told me!" she screamed, gesturing at Claire with the gun. "She said they gave him something.... a drug to make him grow faster.... so I couldn't find him.... I would have known! They could have made him a hundred and I would have known... how could *you* not know?!"  
  
Stunned and devastated, Darien felt an urgent need to either collapse or run and hide, but he held himself together by the thinnest of margins.  
  
"Alex.... I.... I'm so sorry... I didn't.... the last thing I wanted was... you have to understand..."  
  
"I don't have to do anything! I'm the one with the gun! I'm in control!"  
  
"I-I know. I'm just... trying to get you to see.... I barely had time to react, never mind look at faces.... please...."  
  
"Please. Is that what my little boy said? Did he beg for his life before you blew him away?"  
  
"Alex.... what you're askin' for.... it's harsh. I know you've been hurt.... I won't make it any worse unless you say so. If you really want it... I'll tell you everything.... I'll tell you the truth."  
  
"Yeah? Okay. Go ahead and tell me your... version of the truth. Maybe if I believe you, I won't shoot her after all. I'll just break her neck. Quick and painless. She won't feel anything. Well? I'm waiting."  
  
"You do something for me first."  
  
"Asking me for a favor.... I'll admit it, Fawkes, you don't lack for balls when it's down to the wire, do you? What? What can *I*... do for *you*?"  
  
"Sit back down. That's all. Just... sit back down on the stool.... an' hold my baby nice an' tight, okay? Please, don't let her go."  
  
"She's going... one way or another. Get on with the story." Alex ordered him with venom. Despite her words, however, she acceded to his request and dropped back to her seat.  
  
"Okay... the kids... you can't know unless you were there, Alex. You'll never get it.... They were all zombies. Their eyes, their faces... nothin'. Just... dead air, ya know? Chrysalis brain-washed all of 'em. They thought there was no place for them in the world the adults are supposed to be settin' up. The bastards made these kids wanna die.... it was the only thing in their heads. I tried... I swear I did. Bobby an' Claire too. We tried to save every kid...."  
  
"Not hard enough!!!" Alex screamed, waving the gun wildly as she leapt to her feet again.  
  
At that moment, Darien's tenuous control over his emotions self- destructed as the image of the girl he'd attempted to revive slammed into his still healing heart, bringing with it every ounce of guilt, pain, frustration and rage he hadn't yet found a way to purge. To his shock, the one that emerged most powerfully was the rage.  
  
"How.. dare you.... you self-centered.... narcissistic little.... Do you think that I *don't* get the concept of *enough*?! I didn't have enough air... or enough strength... to give life back to the girl who died in my arms. I coulda kept breathing for her... an' breathing for her, until my body gave out too... but it never... would have been... enough. You.... are not the only human being on the planet capable of feeling pain, Alex. Now give me my baby, you bitch, before I rip you apart with my bare hands...."  
  
The epithets only ramped up Monroe's fury to the point where she didn't care who died first and swung the gun up to point directly at Darien. Claire, seeing an opportunity, threw off the ruse of pain-lulled semi-awareness she'd been maintaining and shrieked at the top of her lungs. As she'd hoped, the weapon moved back in her direction, giving Darien a chance to move on Alex, but the other woman's peripheral vision was too acute.  
  
"Alright, that's it! Both of you stop or the baby dies now! I am in control here! This is my sh..."  
  
The final word of Alex's sentence was brutally severed as a bullet crashed into her left shoulder. Darien whirled momentarily, stunned to find Eberts behind him with a gun of his own. Just then, Bobbi wailed as only a suddenly and severely frightened child can. The sound sliced cleanly through every fear and worry Darien had wrapped himself in for almost three weeks. His anxieties dropped away and he responded as any mother would; he spun back around and raced to grab his daughter from her kidnapper. Alex fought him briefly, but the intense pain of her wound made it impossible for her to hold onto the squirming child. As Darien cradled Bobbi in his arms, Eberts and two others cautiously approached Monroe.  
  
"Give up your gun, Alex. End this, please. Help is here for you."  
  
"Go to hell, traitor! I don't... want.. your help..." she ground out, forced to drop to one knee even as she tried to raise the hand with the pistol in it. Once he saw that the medics were releasing and beginning to treat Claire, Darien's anger returned with a vengeance. He stalked to where Alex knelt and stamped on her gun hand with one foot, making sure he leaned his full weight into the move. Monroe cried out as her weapon skittered toward the back of the lab, but Darien wasn't finished. Viciously, he began to slowly grind his heel back and forth, his greatest desire to wring the same heart-broken cry from her that she had drawn from his child. He would likely have achieved his goal if Eberts had not pulled him away.  
  
"Darien, stop!"  
  
"She shot Claire in the knee... she had a gun on my baby, damn it!"  
  
"I know, and she'll be dealt with, but not by you."  
  
"I'm the only one who has the right..."  
  
"No, you don't. Darien, listen to me. Thinking that way is what made Alex think she had to do this. Do you really want to go there again?"  
  
"Again? What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Arnaud has been dead for months. Can you honestly say you don't still hate him? That you don't still crave revenge for everything you lost because of him?"  
  
"God... I... it's not like that. I'd never do... this."  
  
"I know that, but I also know you have far too much to lose to allow resentment and anger to end up... here."  
  
"Bobby..." Darien murmured, finally cooling down.  
  
"And Roberta as well. They both need you. Perhaps some soul-searching is in order?"  
  
"Maybe... what'll they do with her?" he asked as he watched Alex being dragged out of the Keep. Claire was lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled out not long after.  
  
"The same thing they used to do with you when you lost control and did something foolish, I suppose."  
  
"The Cracker Jack box? Damn... I want her punished, yeah, but..."  
  
"She's dangerous to herself and others right now. The padded cell is the safest place to house her until a final determination can be made as to her future."  
  
Hearing a noise near the door, Eberts turned and discovered the Official waiting there. "I'll be right back, Darien. Stay here, alright?"  
  
"I'm okay, now. I won't go after her. Go on and give him an update."  
  
Moving slowly to the doorway, Eberts breathed out heavily and faced his boss.  
  
"Hello, Charles."  
  
"What happened here, Eberts?"  
  
"Your protégé happened. She came very close to ending three lives. I managed to save them just in time."  
  
"You? How?"  
  
"I shot her."  
  
"You...you can't be serious."  
  
"Go to the infirmary and find out. Alex and Claire are both being treated for their wounds. I'm sure you don't need two chances to guess which one's in restraints."  
  
"Wounds... is Claire...."  
  
"She should recover completely, but she may never walk normally again. Alex put a bullet through her knee."  
  
This piece of news finally silenced Borden's disbelief, but it was quickly replaced by confusion.  
  
"I... I don't understand."  
  
"I see that. I'm not sure that's a bad thing. I have an awful feeling that if you ever come to terms with all the chaos and damage you've caused, you'll end up in the padded cell with Alex. Look, Darien's doing well, but he'll need...."  
  
"I called Hobbes. He should be here any minute."  
  
"Thank you. Before he arrives, it might be best if you go. At best your presence at this reunion would be unwelcome. At worst..."  
  
"I know. Is... is that her?"  
  
"Yes. That is the child you would have sent to the human equivalent of a vivisectionists research lab. I've had to save her from your machinations twice, now. That's quite enough, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
"Yes... I... I think you're right...."  
  
"Well, well. Welcome to today's episode of ' Words I Never Thought I'd Hear ' "  
  
"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Eberts."  
  
"Perhaps not, but I've discovered it does a great deal for my sanity. You have to go."  
  
"She... she's beautiful. If I'd known...."  
  
"Nothing would have changed, Charles. We both know that. You still would have chosen the agency over anything else... including that little girl."  
  
"I *am* human, Eberts. I can regret my mistakes, just like anyone else."  
  
"Yes, but do you have the stomach for admitting them?"  
  
"That... I don't know. I should go think about it... in my office."  
  
"Excellent idea."  
  
Sadly, Eberts watched his old friend walk away. He waited until the elevator doors slid closed then turned around to see to Darien. He found the other man on the inward half of a slow circuit of the room and moved to his side, matching his pace. "How is she?"  
  
"Better. I think she's actually asleep. Has anybody called Hobbes?"  
  
"Charles did. Robert should be on his way down in the elevator just about now. You're ready to fall asleep yourself, Darien. Would you like me to take her for a while..." Eberts asked gently, reaching out for Bobbi.  
  
"No!" Darien yelled, pulling away and actually backing up a step or two. "I mean... I'm okay. I'm fine. Everything's okay...."  
  
Hobbes stumbled into the Keep a few seconds later, just in time to see Darien finally break under the strain of the day. The younger man sank to the floor, still clutching his daughter, and Bobby rushed to embrace them both and reassure himself they were safe and unhurt. Eberts, feeling he was intruding on a private moment, turned and left.  
  
"I didn't let it happen Bobby.... not this time.... she's okay.... she's alive...."  
  
"Easy... it's gonna be fine... it's all over now, babe... all over.... thank God, you're both alright... I'm so sorry... I shoulda been here... I shoulda stopped her myself before she..."  
  
"No.... no, Bobby... forget Alex... I need you to hold me right now, okay? Just... hold onto me... and don't go away.... don't leave me..."  
  
"Never. I swear, I'll never do that again.... I'm here, baby... I'm right here.... I'm not gonna let go...."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((( 


	16. Rain Medley

A Wedding Song 16: Rain Medley  
  
I know I promised no genuine song fic pieces but it's only one chapter and when you read it you won't want to spit, I swear. I have to go with inspiration or inspiration will go without me!  
  
The songs "Like the Rain", "Rainin' on Sunday" and "A Little Fall of Rain" belong to Clint Black, Keith Urban and Andrew Lloyd Webber respectively. You may never know it gentlemen, but you saved my butt on this chapter. It sucked until your intensely beautiful music hit my ears and inspired me. If anyone knows any of the three personally (I know, big lol.) thank them for me.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
FOUR DAYS LATER --- SUNDAY AFTERNOON  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE OFFICIAL: Reflections on Redemption  
  
{It was sunny all through church this morning. Why does it have to do this the minute the service ends? Typical....}  
  
As he stared out his living room window at the bleak, chill day his perfect Sunday had become, Charles Borden ruminated on the thought that rain was and always had been his least favorite weather pattern. Even in California, rain almost never made an appearance without a significant drop in temperature. His bones weren't ancient yet, but he had begun to feel the weight of the years in his neck and knees, neither of which particularly enjoyed the cold. He knew his own body weight had more than a little to do with his growing aches and pains, but, as he'd always done, he tended to blame his troubles on anything and everything outside himself before he turned to look inward. Inward was not a pleasant place for him. He saw his internal landscape much like the external one he currently gazed upon; cold, gray and harsh, barely fit for supporting life.  
  
{I really wanted to walk the neighborhood today. Sunday's the only quiet day on the streets. I can't think in here. I have to get out into the fresh air. I need to get away from the phone and the T.V. and the fax and.... why did it have to rain?}  
  
Into the midst of his dour, melancholy contemplations, Borden felt more than heard his wife enter the room. He did not turn or acknowledge her. It wasn't necessary. Sensing his depression, she had sought him out and come to console him, so she would do the approaching, she would be the one to speak first, taking his burden on herself as she coaxed his fears and worries from him. He called it her unique brand of magic. She called it love. Silently, Elizabeth Borden moved up behind her husband and laid her hands on his shoulders.  
  
"What is it, honey? The rain?"  
  
"Partly. I needed to get out... do some thinking. I told you that on the way home."  
  
"And the rest?"  
  
"I don't know. Everything at work.... it's a mess. I don't know anything anymore. I feel like.... I'm lost. I've *been* lost for a long, long time, but.... I can't see how to change direction... I don't know what to do...."  
  
"Do you remember our third date?"  
  
Used to her sudden changes of subject, Charles allowed his wife to lead, knowing the path of the conversation would be anything but aimless.  
  
"How could I forget? The Halloween Hayride Horror."  
  
"It wasn't so bad."  
  
"It poured buckets. To this day the small of wet hay makes me gag..."  
  
"That's not the part I'm talking about."  
  
"Oh. You mean... the woods."  
  
"The woods. Once the rain slowed down to a sprinkle, you draped your coat around my shoulders, led me out of the cabin where everyone was drying off and took me for a walk. The woods smelled so incredible that night... fresh and clean. The storm picked up again but that didn't stop you. You laughed and started to run, saying you wanted to show me something."  
  
"That clearing... the moon was so bright..."  
  
"I'll never forget... you dropped to your knees on a bed of wet pine needles.... I kept giggling and yelling that you were ruining your best pants and your mother was going to tan your hide something awful." Elizabeth chuckled.  
  
"She did." Charles responded soberly. "Within an inch of my life."  
  
The woman behind him tightened her grip on his shoulders in sympathy, understanding how difficult those memories were for her husband, but she continued the story anyway, hoping to keep his mood from darkening further.  
  
"That was the first time you said you loved me. I was so shocked I almost ended up in the pine needles with you. You said you loved me and you knew you were going to marry me and, third date or not, you knew I already loved you too and nothing could ever stop us unless we let it. Your hair was plastered to your head... so was mine for that matter, but I didn't care. I pulled you up to your feet and hugged you until you couldn't breathe.... and I said you were right. I did love you and I would forever. I still do."  
  
"God, Beth..."  
  
"When we finally decided to head back to the shelter, it was so dark and our hair was in our faces.... we got lost. We were terrified we'd be stuck out there all night. Then suddenly the lights of the cabin were right there in front of us. You said it was a miracle.... proof we were meant to walk through life together, with all its problems, all its sadness. Proof that there was nothing we couldn't survive if we stayed together. There still isn't."  
  
"Beth, please..."  
  
"I want to take a walk." She asserted softly, tugging him toward the coat rack and the front door.  
  
"It's raining. I hate rain, you know that..."  
  
"No you don't. You hate what it makes you think of... the things it makes you feel. Feelings can change. You can change."  
  
"Elizabeth..."  
  
"We're going for a walk, Charles. In the rain."  
  
Knowing he would never win, Borden gave in and reached for an umbrella, but she pulled it out of his hand and replaced it. Grinning faintly, he lifted his light summer jacket off the rack, placed it around her shoulders and let her cajole him out into the rain utterly unprotected.  
  
Once outside, he was shocked to discover how warm it was and how pleasant the droplets felt as they covered his hands and dribbled down his forehead. Closing his eyes, he turned his face up slightly and felt the glacial ice surrounding his core begin to retreat a little. It took him a few minutes, however, to realize that the warm moisture on his cheeks was not entirely a product of the late summer storm.  
  
### I never liked the rain 'till I walked through it with you.  
  
Every thundercloud that came was one more I might not get through,  
  
but on the darkest day there's always light, and now I see it too.  
  
But I never liked the rain 'till I walked through it with you.  
  
I hear it falling in the night, filling up my mind.  
  
All the heaven's rivers come to life I see it all unwind.  
  
I hear it talking in the trees and on the windowpane,  
  
and when I hear it I just can't believe I never liked the rain.  
  
Like the rain, I am fallin' for you, and I know just why you like the rain. Always callin' for you, I'm fallin for you now just like the rain.  
  
When the cloud is rolling over, thunder striking me,  
  
it's as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldn't see,  
  
that it's always good and when the flood is gone we still remain.  
  
I guess I've always known I just belong here with you fallin' like the rain  
  
Like the rain, I am fallin' for you, and I know just why you like the rain. Always callin' for you, I'm fallin for you now just like the rain...... ###  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
DARIEN AND BOBBY: Redeeming Love  
  
Seated in a rocking chair in front of his bedroom window, Darien held and fed his daughter while keeping the chair in gentle motion. For the most part his gaze remained solely on her, but occasionally he glanced out at the world, wondering if the dreary spitting rain would ever stop and allow the sun to return.  
  
Though he had no love for rainy days, he normally got through them with little difficulty. Today seemed to be different. He could clearly read the joy and contentment in Bobbi's eyes as she sleepily gazed up at him, but, unlike so many other times, it didn't penetrate his heart. He couldn't seem to shake the residual fear, helplessness and fury the kidnapping had awakened in him. Their mutual bond told him Bobbi felt his distress, but had no doubt he'd find his way through it and be alright again.  
  
Compared to the past three weeks, the previous two and a half days had been a stark contrast. Instead of begging Darien to pick the baby up, Bobby had been hard-pressed to get his partner to even put their daughter down long enough for her to complete a nap. Hobbes had been thrilled at first, sure that Darien holding Roberta was a good omen, a sign that the storms that had been raging around them were finally clearing. By that morning, however, Bobby had begun to realize that even Fawkes' delight at being able to hold his child again couldn't push the negative emotions far enough away for him to escape their powerful gravitational pull. Not without an extra pair of strong hands to help him get free.  
  
"Darien?"  
  
"I'm awake. C'mon in."  
  
"How's she doin' ?"  
  
"Good. The bottle's almost empty."  
  
"An' she's almost asleep. Nasty day, ain't it?" Bobby commented after a brief glance out the window. " I was thinkin' about puttin' her in the car seat an' goin down to the beach.... but not when it's like this. It started out so nice today, too...."  
  
"Rain screws everything up. You ever notice that? God must have a twisted sense of humor. The minute you even think of headin' to the pool or the beach.... clouds, darker clouds, sprinkles, downpour. Or when you're really lookin' forward to havin' a picnic..... BAM!. Monsoon. Never fails. An' it always rains on the day somebody dies. Like everybody isn't cryin' enough, the angels gotta throw their two cents in...."  
  
Through the hand he'd laid on Darien's upper arm, Bobby felt him begin to tremble and knew instinctively that a potential emotional boil- over was brewing.  
  
"Here. Lemme put her in her crib, okay?"  
  
"No! No, don't take her..."  
  
"It's okay. She's doin' really good. You said so yourself. Bobbi's fine. Talk to her, you'll see she's alright."  
  
After a few seconds of silent communication, Darien chuckled brokenly and released Roberta to her dad. "What?"  
  
"I just got the mental equivalent of "I'm not the only one who needs a nap. Chill out, mom."  
  
Once he'd gotten Bobbi settled in her crib and coaxed a burp from her, Hobbes returned to the rocker.  
  
"She's right ya know. We could both use extra sleep. When you're in the middle of the pressure an' the craziness, you don't see how much it's takin' outta you. You feel like crashin' for a while?"  
  
"I don't think I could sleep."  
  
"You don't have to. Just come lay down. Get under the blankets.... get warm. Nothin' better on a nasty day. I'll even read Goldilocks an' the Three Bears..."  
  
"Hobbes...."  
  
"Please, baby.... don't push me away again. Lemme hold you. It's all I can think to do...."  
  
Abruptly, Darien rose from the chair, turned and threw himself into Bobby's waiting arms.  
  
"I've missed you... God, you can't know how I missed you..." he sobbed into his fiancé's neck.  
  
"Missed me.... where'd I go?" Bobby responded in confusion  
  
"Not you... me. I'm the one who ran away. Ever since all this stuff with the kids started.... I've been so locked in my own head... an' so damn scared."  
  
"Shhh. I know...."  
  
"No... no way you could.... I hated myself for what I did to James. I thought if I gave it enough time, you'd end up hatin' me too... then you'd leave.... so I pulled away first. I figured it'd hurt less that way... I'm really sorry...."  
  
"Hey... it's okay. Easy..."  
  
Gradually, Bobby convinced Darien to move with him to the bed and lay down, shoes, socks and all. Pulling the covers over both of them, he slipped one arm around his partner's midsection and cradled Darien's head with the other. "Tell me what you need, baby. Tell me an' I'll get it, or I'll do it... anything."  
  
"Make it stop rainin'.... please, Bobby. One thing after another, after another.... I can't catch my breath.... I just want it to stop...."  
  
"Okay. If that's what you want, I'll give it my best shot. Close your eyes an' sleep for a while, okay? Just close your eyes.... when you wake up the rain'll be gone...."  
  
### It ticks just like a Timex, it never lets up on you. Who said life was easy? The job is never through. It'll run us 'till we're ragged. It'll harden our hearts. and love could use a day of rest, before we both start fallin' apart.  
  
Pray that it's raining on Sunday, stormin' like crazy.  
  
We'll hide under the covers all afternoon.  
  
Baby, whatever comes on Monday,  
  
can take care of itself,  
  
'cause we got better things that we can do,  
  
when it's raining on Sunday....... ###  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
EBERTS AND CLAIRE: Love Unexpected  
  
Standing in the open door of Claire's room in the Agency infirmary, Eberts leaned on the frame and gazed at the scientist as she slept. He had been dithering for an hour or more whether it was proper that he actually go in and see her.  
  
{At least I'm being indecisive *at* the Agency instead of everywhere but.} he berated himself. {That's a step forward. I should be ashamed that it's taken me until now to gather the courage to face her. I can't believe I allowed her to be hurt like this. The bruise on her jaw looked so awful at first... that's fading now, thank God. Small comfort when you look at that contraption on her leg. And yet she's still so beautiful.... }  
  
Dejectedly, Eberts gazed down at the flowers he held. He'd had no idea of her favorite variety, so he'd picked something on impulse, but now it looked to him like a choice made for expediency's sake, based not on knowledge of her likes and dislikes but on an assumption of her heritage.  
  
{English tea roses.... I'll look like a thoughtless clod. And they're dripping profusely all over the floor as well. The lovely wrapping job they did at the florists is ruined. Of course, I couldn't know it was going to rain. No. On second thought, I should have known. The way I'm feeling today, what else could it possibly do?}  
  
Finally stepping into the room, Eberts laid his sodden bundle down on a small table by the door and turned to go. Only noticing what else lay on the table stopped him.  
  
{Compact disks... and a small stereo. One of the others must have brought them for her. I wonder.... I couldn't be lucky enough to have these be from her personal collection, can I? Well, I can complain about not knowing her preferences or I can seize the opportunity when it presents itself....}  
  
Quietly, Eberts lifted one CD, studied it, then placed it to the side and picked up the next.  
  
{Bach, Mahler, Handel, David Bowie.... David Bowie? So I've learned one thing by this little foray. She has eclectic taste in music.}  
  
Halfway through the stack, Eberts stopped, his heart suddenly beating much too fast. He stared at the CD cover for a few stunned seconds before coming to himself and opening the case. The disk was not there. With his free hand, he hit the button that would open the lid on the player. There, he found what he was seeking.  
  
{Les Miserables..... it can't be. My God, I know every word in every song. If she.... Remarkable. Today of all days.... with Claire injured.... I don't believe in coincidence. But I don't believe in miracles either....}  
  
Suddenly, Claire spoke up from the other side of the room, startling Eberts so badly he almost knocked both stacks of CD's to the floor.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Claire... I'm so sorry. If I had known you weren't asleep I never would have..."  
  
"Albert...."  
  
"No... you need to rest. I should go...."  
  
"Don't go, please. You know Les Miz?"  
  
"Know it? I've memorized it. I only have a few of these at home... I'm not exactly one for being with the times, I'm afraid. This cast album... this holds a treasured place in my stereo and in my heart." he admitted, lightly running one finger over the image on the cover.  
  
"Mine too."  
  
Claire fell silent for a few moments, running the list of songs through her head. One in particular jumped out at her and she smiled softly.  
  
"Play the song. You know which one."  
  
"No. Not Marius and Eponine. Don't ask me to.... I've spent too many hours crying in the last few days. Hearing that song now...."  
  
"I understand, but *I* need to hear it. Please? Cue up the song and come sit by me. Oh, and bring the flowers."  
  
"If you insist."  
  
"I do."  
  
Shaking, Eberts powered up the CD player and automatically advanced the disk to the correct track. Retrieving his bedraggled little bouquet, he moved haltingly to Claire's bedside, sat in the only chair available and reluctantly held out the tea roses. When he dared to look up, he found tears in her eyes, but to his shock she was still smiling. As the opening notes of the song began to fill the room, Claire reached out and gently grasped his hand.  
  
"The roses, they're wet... is it raining outside?"  
  
"Off and on. Mostly on.... Claire.... I need to apologize. I have to..."  
  
"No. Listen to the words, Albert. Just listen.... and stay here with me."  
  
Eberts nodded. Soon, as he'd feared, the lyrics had him silently weeping, but in her eyes, he found no judgment or condemnation, so he let the tears flow.  
  
### Epon--- Don't you fret M'sieur Marius.  
  
I don't feel any pain.  
  
A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now.  
  
You're here, that's all I need to know.  
  
And you will keep me safe,  
  
and you will keep me close,  
  
and rain will make the flowers grow.  
  
Marius--- But you will live, Eponine, dear God above,  
  
If I could close your wounds with words of love....  
  
Epon.--- Just hold me now and let it be.  
  
Shelter me, comfort me.  
  
Marius--- You would live a hundred years,  
  
if I could show you how.  
  
I won't desert you now.  
  
Epon.--- The rain can't hurt me now.  
  
This rain will wash away what's past,  
  
and you will keep me safe,  
  
and you will keep me close.  
  
I'll sleep in your embrace at last.  
  
The rain that brings you here is heaven blessed.  
  
The skies begin to clear and I'm at rest.....###  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC.... happy days are here again.... soon anyway. As the wedding planner, I have a million things to do, so the next chapter may be a while, but hang in there. The ceremony is just around the corner! 


	17. Did You Know You Are My Sunshine?

A Wedding Song 17: Do You Know You Are My Sunshine....  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Fawkes... not that I don't... love playin'... Santa an' the bad little boy... but if anybody should... you know, walk in... an' see you in my lap..."  
  
"Let 'em. I haven't felt this good in weeks... I deserve to have some fun... an' I don't give a damn..."  
  
"Darien, c'mon... we're supposed to be... in a... briefin' right about now...."  
  
Grinning like a kid with trouble on his mind and a fool-proof plan for finding it, Darien tightened his grip on Bobby's neck and leaned back in to continue his off-key version of a popular seventies make out song in- between long, drawn out kisses.  
  
"Rubbin' sticks an' stones together makes the sparks ignite.... an' the thought of lovin' you is gettin' so exciting...."  
  
"Darien.... mannnnn.... this'll be... the second time.... this week.... The fish knows we ain't... in here fillin' out... paperwork.... aw, for the love a'Mike...."  
  
"I don't."  
  
"Don't what...."  
  
"Love Mike. But for you.... anything. Well... almost." the taller half of the team chuckled. The couch creaked as he shifted his position slightly before going back to the song and his conspicuous consumption of Bobby's face. "Skyrockets in flight.... afternoon delight.... aaaaa- afternoon delight...."  
  
"Afternoon... with our.... butts in a sling... is more like it. Mmmm.... crap... I can never say no to those lips... c'mere...."  
  
A sudden knock on the door startled Bobby and he tried to push Darien off his lap and into a position beside him on the couch. His partner was having none of it and held on, still smiling. Eberts opened the door just a crack and poked his head in. His words and the tone in which they were delivered finally made the younger man relent.  
  
"You two are nearly twenty minutes late! Let's go gentlemen. There's a crisis brewing and Charles wants you both in his office ASAP."  
  
Rising to his feet, Darien grimaced at Eberts.  
  
"Crisis, huh? Did he run out of Ho-Ho's again? And, just outta curiosity, since when did you go back to bein' his lackey?"  
  
"I haven't. With all that's gone on recently... he needed me, and.... It's complicated. I'll explain it later. Enough talk! Time is of the essence! Go, go, go!"  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Right on time as usual." The Official snarked as the trio entered the office.  
  
"Yeah, but I forgot your standard tribute of nachos and diet soda. Sorry, there great Buddha. You gonna give with the info anyway or should I go hit the convenience store first?" Darien shot right back as he dropped into his chair.  
  
The Official then did something completely unexpected; something that left Darien with his mouth hanging open and erased all possible comebacks from his mind. The Agency's fearless leader smiled openly, threw out the definitive response to his employee's faintly hostile words and continued on as if everything were normal.  
  
"Not necessary. Bring a dish of ramen noodles next time and all will be forgiven. Now, there's been a major shake up at the highest levels of Chrysalis.... yes? Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Nothing at all." Darien finally responded. "You were talkin' about... what was it?"  
  
Borden's smile widened fractionally, but he passed up the opportunity to keep the banter going in favor of completing the briefing.  
  
"Chrysalis. Our sources are telling us Jared Stark is on the run from his own people."  
  
"What?" Bobby replied, sitting forward in his chair, full attention on their boss. "That don't make sense. It's gotta be fake... or the source got it wrong."  
  
"Unfortunately, neither applies. It seems that the juvenile Jonestown was his idea and his alone. The upper echelon knew nothing of it and they weren't at all happy when they learned what he'd tried to do. They're even less pleased that forty-six prime examples of their genetic manipulations are currently in our hands and being deprogrammed as we speak."  
  
Growing more and more pale by the minute, Darien gripped the arms of the chair fiercely and managed to choke out the only question running through his mind.  
  
"Stark... he... it was his choice to... to do that his child? He wasn't forced into it? He sent his own flesh and blood to...."  
  
"He was fully aware. According to the autopsy, however.... he might have thought he had a legitimate reason for his actions."  
  
"Reason?! How can you... what reason?"  
  
"Mercy. The formula Stark gave the boy to increase his rate of growth.... it wasn't totally de-bugged. It had begun to cause mutations in the child's bones and organs. Our M.E. can't be certain, but he doesn't think James would have lived much more than another year. Perhaps far less. Stark may have actually believed he was providing a quick, painless way out for his child."  
  
"And we're hearin' this why?" Bobby asked, noting that Darien had retreated into himself slightly.  
  
"Stark is now a free agent. He's out there somewhere, in fear for his life and carrying around the information that will bring down Chrysalis once and for all. We need to get to him before anyone else does and do some hard- core convincing. This is a once in a lifetime chance. We don't dare pass up the chance to turn Jared Stark into a white hat."  
  
Hearing that particular phrase snapped Darien out of his momentary fugue with a slight shiver.  
  
"What?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"Nothing. I'm okay. So... do we even have a starting point? Do we have any idea where to go first?"  
  
"I have an address. He hasn't been there in weeks, possibly a month or more, but he may have left something behind."  
  
"That's it." Darien countered incredulously.  
  
"We... I'm working on it." Borden corrected himself awkwardly, glancing swiftly up at Eberts then back to the two men in front of him. "This isn't like calling for the movie listings...."  
  
"We'll find you more intelligence." Eberts continued. "It may take a day or two, but it will happen. I know you both understand how important this could be... how many lives it could save. You'll have to do your best until I've had time to dig deeper and get my contact network back up and running."  
  
"Okay. I guess you're right..." Bobby began, breaking off when his cell phone buzzed. "Hobbes here. Hey. No. No, I can't. It's the middle of a work day, that's why..."  
  
Smiling thinly at the room in general, Bobby rose and moved out into the hall. Darien made his apologies, accepted the address to Stark's former residence and went to be with Hobbes, sensing something was wrong. When he found his partner, Bobby was standing a few feet down the corridor, back turned to Darien. His voice and stiff posture concerned Darien and as he got closer he realized his instincts were right "Yeah, well, that was when I gave a damn. No, you can't come to the apartment. I'm not there anymore. You got a problem with that? That's right, big changes an' all good ones. The best is discoverin' I don't have to let you do this to me anymore, Viv. Do what, she says. Let you tie me up in knots and gimme migraines is what. I don't jump an' run on your say so.... Oh, no, uh-uh, no way, lady. 'Cause you don't have a right to it. Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm sayin. Fine, you do that. Bye."  
  
Bobby closed his phone very slowly, dropped his hands to his sides and began to take slow, deep breaths. He knew he was making an all-too obvious show of maintaining his composure, but just then he couldn't be bothered to care who knew he was angry. Darien added an easy shoulder massage to the effort and Bobby soon relaxed enough to turn and face his partner.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Yeah... so am I every time I think about what an unbelievable mistake marryin' her was."  
  
"She wanted the new address?"  
  
"What she wants... is to talk. About what I don't know an' I don't care. Let's get goin'. We got an assignment."  
  
"You don't feel like talkin' about it, huh?" Darien asked, trailing Bobby to the elevator.  
  
"Right on the first guess, kid. As a prize you get a trip in the truck."  
  
"Add in an ice cream on the way home you got a deal."  
  
"I thought you got over the ice cream obsession when Bobbi was born."  
  
"I will never stop being obsessed with peanut parfaits. What I got over was wantin' the sour cream and onion chips on top."  
  
"That wasn't half as bad as the bacon bits and pickled onion on that sundae you made at home."  
  
"I still say it wasn't fair to make me eat outside that day."  
  
"I had to keep my own dessert down didn't I? Tell you what; promise me you'll never sing that song to me in public an' I'll even spring for extra hot fudge."  
  
"In private?"  
  
"That's a different kettle a'fish, my friend...."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"He was right." Bobby sighed, gazing around the trashed, half empty apartment in frustration. "There's nothin' here. Nothin' we can use anyway. From the looks of it he left a while ago. Dust bunnies ain't gonna help us find Stark. We might as well get outta here Fawkes? You hearin' me?"  
  
Curious, Bobby moved back into the bedroom where he knew Darien had been searching on his own. He found his fiancée kneeling on the floor in front of a night stand, slowly sifting through a pile of photographs. Dropping to the bed, he waved the cloud of resulting dust away and held out his hand. Darien passed a few of the photos to him. When he realized who the child in the pictures had to be, Bobby closed his eyes briefly, then laid a hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed gently.  
  
"It's him ain't it?"  
  
"Most of them... yeah. Damn, he was a gorgeous kid...."  
  
"Babe, don't do this."  
  
"I'm not. It's just...."  
  
"Just what?"  
  
"I don't know. I had a thought there, but... it's playin' hide an' seek now, I guess. You find anything?"  
  
"Nah. Big zilch on the evidence front."  
  
"Look at this one.... musta been taken right after he left on the plane.... an' before Stark started playin' God.... How could we do that, Bobby? How could we give him back? Look what we did to him..."  
  
" *We* did nothin wrong. Stark's wife played us, Fawkes. You know that. None of us coulda seen that comin'. We thought she really wanted out. It's their fault, not ours an' *really* not yours. You gotta quit beatin' up on yourself for not bein psychic. Besides, like the fish said.... James was dyin'. At some point... it woulda been outta everybody's hands. If it had to happen...."  
  
"Don't. Don't finish that sentence, Bobby. I can't...."  
  
Abruptly, Darien stood, gathering the pictures together and absently brushing the residue of abandonment off his pants. "Let's get these back to the Agency. Maybe the guys in photo analysis can find somethin' in the background of one of 'em that'll give us a better lead."  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, maybe." Bobby responded, rising to follow his partner out. "I could definitely use a banana split right about now..."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
1 HOUR LATER  
  
Standing before the window of the padded room he knew so intimately, Darien gazed in at Alex, fighting the urge to run or drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. Though it was a struggle, he forced himself to remain in place until she realized he was there. When she did, she lunged at the glass, screaming obscenities he couldn't hear but could guess at, pounding furiously and scratching in her effort to get at him.  
  
Swallowing hard, he gazed down one last time at the picture he held then attached a piece of scotch tape to the back of the photo. Gently, he taped the picture of baby James to the window, facing in so Alex could see it, and walked away.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC..... 


	18. It's Getting Better All the Time

A Wedding Song 18: It's Getting Better All the Time...  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
ONE WEEK LATER: THE INFIRMARY  
  
"Claire? May I..."  
  
"Of course, Albert. Come in. Did you get them?"  
  
"Yes. I..."  
  
Eberts paused abruptly, checked the corridor then closed the door behind him before moving to Claire's bedside.  
  
"They're not around." she assured him. "I sent them to the truck with my things."  
  
"Oh. Very well then."  
  
Gingerly sitting beside her on the hospital bed, Eberts dipped into his pocket and produced a small box from an upscale jewelry store.  
  
"Open it! I want to see!" Claire told him, vibrating the mattress with the urge to bounce up and down that her injury left her unable to physically express.  
  
"Just a moment. There. What do you think? Is it close enough to what you described to me?"  
  
Claire stared at the two silver rings in the box for a long moment then grinned and hugged Eberts fiercely. Her unexpected gesture stunned him, but he managed to recover in time to pat her back once before she pulled away.  
  
"They're perfect! Simple, elegant... were you able to get the engraving done?"  
  
"Absolutely. Darien's name flanked by hearts inside one, Robert's with the same design in the other. That little ruse about the size of their fingers being a health indicator was brilliant, by the way."  
  
"Well I had to do something. I couldn't just ask, could I? They're going to love them, I just know it!" Claire enthused, studying the rings more closely "Is there... there is something etched into the outer surface. It's so delicate I can't quite make it out. What is it?"  
  
"A Celtic knot. It goes all the way around. They cost a little more than unadorned silver, but I couldn't resist. As closely as the two of them are bonded... it just seemed so appropriate."  
  
"It is. Oh, Albert, what a lovely gesture." Claire sighed, handing the box back and gifting him with another quick hug. This time it didn't surprise him quite so much and he savored it. As she separated from him, he slid the box back into his jacket.  
  
"So. How are you today? You're certainly looking a great deal better."  
  
"I'm ready to be out of here is how I am. I can't wait to get back to my own house with my things and Pavlov. I've missed him so much."  
  
"Of course. You've already arranged for temporary assistance, I suppose."  
  
"Well... no, actually. I haven't really thought..."  
  
"Oh, but you must think about it. You won't be able to reach the second floor of your house for quite a while yet."  
  
"Oh dear. The kitchen, my bedroom...."  
  
"Exactly. I'll make the call for you right now."  
  
"No! I mean... I'm sorry. I just can't have someone I don't know in my home. The idea of an utter stranger...."  
  
"What other option is there? I'm sure Darien or Robert would be willing to pitch in..."  
  
"They have the baby to care for and a wedding to plan. No, that would never do..."  
  
The pair sat silent for several minutes.  
  
{There are no other options. I don't dare broach the subject. If only she would.... but she'll never ask. Lord above, what am I thinking? I'm a friend. That's how she sees me and how she always *will* see me. I don't have the right to even dream that she might, perhaps, someday.... Alright, enough. Stop it this minute, Albert Eberts! You're being a fool. Men like you only get their wishes granted in fairy tales. Stop dreaming, stand up and get out before she makes your humiliation complete...}  
  
{What is he thinking? I can never tell by his face. I'm fairly sure I don't want to know what or *who* made him this much of an expert at suppressing his thoughts and feelings. When he played the song from ' Les Miz '.... The obvious joy he takes in caring for Roberta Claire... I know they're only cracks in the armor, just tiny chinks, but what shines through them is so beautiful. I trust him implicitly. I should just ask him. I would if I wasn't certain he'd blush redder than a fire engine and bolt from the room....}  
  
When they finally spoke up, their words tumbled over each other, leaving both confused.  
  
"Claire, I should go...."  
  
"Albert, I have to ask..."  
  
"I have food to prepare for your home-coming...."  
  
"You're right about my needing help... "  
  
" and the surprise party to get ready for..."  
  
"and there's noone I trust the way I do you..."  
  
"so I really should be leaving." He mumbled, rising to his feet.  
  
"so please come and stay with me."  
  
"Wait... I didn't understand any of that." Eberts admitted with a shy smile.  
  
"Neither did I. Start again?"  
  
"I was just saying that I have a great deal to do before tonight... and I should be leaving."  
  
"And I was asking you not to."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I didn't mean... I was asking if..."  
  
Claire stopped, blushing as furiously as she had imagined Eberts being able to do. She drew a deep, steadying breath and made a second, more successful, attempt. "You were right. I will be needing help for a short while. I'd appre.... I'd li... I'd love it if you'd agree to do that for me."  
  
"Claire.... you can't be serious... you don't mean..."  
  
"I said it and I meant it. Sit back down, Marius."  
  
Eberts hesitated, still unable to completely accept what Claire was asking or the name she had called him. Eventually, though, he smiled, surrendered and moved back to sit beside the beautiful blonde. Extending one trembling hand, he gently touched the side of her face and breathed out a shaky response.  
  
"Eponine...."  
  
When Bobby and Darien appeared a few minutes later, the other two were talking and laughing normally.  
  
"Somethin's wrong there."  
  
"What? They're just hangin' out."  
  
"That's what's hinky. Eberts don't hang out. Hang on, hang in, hang curtains... maybe. But he *don't* hang out. That ain't all I'm sensin' either..."  
  
"We're all goin' through adjustments, Hobbes. Hell, he had to shoot somebody. You an' I both know what that does to your head."  
  
"Yeah. You're right about that."  
  
"So? Cut him some slack. Let's get Claire home an' settled in."  
  
"Okay. Hey, Claire. You ready to go?"  
  
"Just about. Albert, if you'd..."  
  
Instantly, Eberts was on his feet and supporting Claire's weight as she rose onto her crutches for the first time. She wobbled slightly as she found her balance and he stuck close to her side, ready to provide any help she needed. "Thank you. I think I should be alright, now."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yes. Are you coming with me or will you follow in your own car?"  
  
"I'll need to gather some things from my own apartment. I'll meet you at your place in say... an hour?"  
  
"That should be fine."  
  
"You boys will stay until I arrive, won't you?"  
  
"Whoa." Bobby said, holding up a hand. "Back up a minute. I missed an on- ramp somewhere."  
  
"Oh. Of course. I'm sorry. Claire realized that she'll need assistance for a few days... until she's gotten the trick of the crutches and so on. She's asked if I'd stay at the house with her until she can manage on her own again."  
  
"She has?"  
  
"If you need help, Claire, you know we're always there for you. Whatever you need..." Darien interjected.  
  
"No. You've got the baby to think of and your own lives as well. Besides, isn't Betsy still on about the both of you coming in for pre-marital counseling at least once?"  
  
"She's called three times in the last week." Bobby confirmed, scowling at the thought. "I told her we don't need no more counselin'. We know what we want. Nobody an' nothin's changin' our minds now."  
  
"She isn't worried that you have doubts. She wants to be sure you've thought about everything you'll be facing as a couple. That's all."  
  
"Yeah, yeah.... Let's get you outta here. I remember my first time on crutches. You're gonna be wiped out just gettin' down to the garage, trust me."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THAT EVENING  
  
"Is that everything you'll need from your bedroom?"  
  
"It seems to be. Good Lord, I'm glad I took time for a nap when I got home this afternoon. I'd never make tit through the party tonight. The food's ready is it?"  
  
"All but the entrée, and that will only be another few minutes."  
  
"When did you make the emergency call?"  
  
"At six-thirty. The current time is... two minutes before seven. It takes them at least half an hour to drive here, even if they don't obey the speed limit, so that means they should be here just about...."  
  
Eberts paused, grinning as the chiming doorbell interrupted him, then finished the thought. "now."  
  
Watching Claire carefully, Eberts followed her to the front door, matching her slow pace.  
  
"I'll never get used to these absurd things.... eight weeks my backside..." she grumbled.  
  
"You will be come accustomed to the crutches. The alternative is much worse, believe me."  
  
"Alternative? There's an alternative?"  
  
"Of course there is. You could spend the next eight weeks in a wheelchair."  
  
Claire's eyes grew wide then she smacked Eberts' ankle lightly with the bottom of one crutch.  
  
"Don't even think that! Crutches it is, but I reserve the right to mouth off about them whenever I choose."  
  
"Absolutely, and I reserve the right to tune you out when it becomes tiresome." He retorted, smiling brightly at her.  
  
"Why, you.... I'm not sure I like this new sense of humor very much." She tossed back at him, though she was smiling as well.  
  
"Something else you'll have to learn to manage. Open the door, dear."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	19. That's What Friends Are For

A Wedding Song 19: That's what Friends Are For...  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"You guys...." Darien exclaimed quietly as he gazed around at the subtle decorating Eberts and Claire had done. "what's goin on?"  
  
"Lemme guess. No emergency, right?" Bobby added, a smile slowly developing on his face. It grew faster as he watched his daughter's joyful reaction on seeing her god parents.  
  
"No. No emergency." Claire confirmed. "It's a long overdue celebration."  
  
"A dual purpose celebration, actually. Claire's safe homecoming and your engagement both deserved a bit of restrained revelry. Belated congratulations, gentlemen. I'm deeply sorry it took this long to get around to saying it but... things have been a bit hectic of late. Well? Come in, come in. Let's get the party underway and my co-hostess off her feet."  
  
"Oh... oh yeah. Right." Bobby responded, quickly moving into the house and shutting the door. Setting the carrier down, he released Bobbi and lifted her out and up to his chest. "Hey, this is really great Ebes, but... you didn't have to. I mean... like you said, it's been a while. It ain't big news anymore."  
  
"I suppose you're right. We'll just send your presents back then..." Claire mused as she dropped to the couch.  
  
"Presents?" Darien repeated excitedly. "You got me... us presents? C'mon, Hobbes. We never did anything special after I proposed an' with all that's happened since... Let's party, huh?"  
  
"Proposed?" Eberts echoed, surprise and delight in his voice as it drifted out of the dining room. "Darien was the one who proposed? Why have I never heard about this?"  
  
"Maybe 'cause Claire did a happy freak out an' turned into a girly tornado when I told her. I didn't wanna see what that would look like on you." Bobby explained.  
  
"Have no fear, Robert. I do not... freak out. I won't promise not to tear up if it gets romantic, but there will be no sudden erratic displays of joy from me, I can assure you. Let me go retrieve the Peking duck from the oven. You and Darien can tell the story while we eat."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
AN HOUR OR SO LATER  
  
"How beautiful. How absolutely beautiful. What you two have found is a rarity and a true miracle. I only pray that if the opportunity for such a great love presents itself to me that I'll have the presence of mind not to allow it to slip away."  
  
Eberts cut his eyes briefly in Claire's direction then returned his gaze to his empty dessert bowl. The minute he looked away, Claire made the same move. Intent on finishing every last scrap of his portion of bread pudding, Darien missed the exchange, but Bobby didn't. Realizing, however, that he and Darien would never have become so close if anyone had interfered in the gradual growth process of their relationship, Hobbes kept his mouth shut, on that subject at least.  
  
"Didn't I hear somebody mention presents sometime tonight? About time, ain't it?"  
  
The magic word finally pulled Darien's attention away from his dish.  
  
"Presents?"  
  
"Absolutely. Claire?"  
  
"Oh. no. It should be your honor. You bought the gift."  
  
"But the design... we'll do it together. Alright?"  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Just as Eberts was reaching into his pocket for the rings, Bobby's cell chimed mutedly from his own pocket. He reached to silence it, but Eberts spoke up, halting him.  
  
"Go ahead, Robert. It could be about Stark. You need to take it."  
  
Bobby produced a chagrined smile and rose to his feet.  
  
"Okay. Hang on. I won't be long."  
  
Bobby was only gone a few minutes, but when he returned to the table, his partner knew it had not been work on the phone.  
  
"Again? What'd she want this time?"  
  
"Same as before. I don't wanna talk about it. Let's... get on with presentin' the presents."  
  
"Bobby..."  
  
"No. Not now. She's got no right to a place here an' I'm not givin' her one. Eberts. You were about to..."  
  
"Of course." he acceded, setting aside his confusion for the moment. Grandly, he produced the small box from his pocket. This time, it had a tiny bow secured to the top. Darien glanced at Eberts, confused now himself, then back at the box in the center of the table.  
  
"What... why..."  
  
"It isn't what you think, Darien. Trust me and open the box. Please."  
  
Trembling slightly, the young man reached out and gently flipped up the lid. His breath stilled for a moment when he saw what was inside. "What better gift for an engagement party than engagement rings. Yours is inscribed with Robert's name, Darien, and..."  
  
"....an' mine has his...." Bobby responded softly, finally managing speech. "Damn. We can't let... these musta cost you a mint, Ebes." he protested, running the tip of one finger over the cool metal.  
  
"They didn't and you certainly can. This is the very least you both deserve for all you've survived."  
  
Retrieving the box, Eberts tugged Bobby's ring out of it's velvet nest and then handed the box to Claire. "Left hand please, Robert."  
  
"But.. ain't me an' Darien supposed to..."  
  
"At the wedding, yes. Tonight is about more than just the two of you. It's about the four of us... about our connection to each other." Claire explained as she reached out for Darien's hand. "No matter what's happened or what we've had to endure, none of us has had to do it alone. That needs to be recognized somehow. Please... I know it's a bit sappy, but..."  
  
"No. It... it's right. You're right. Go ahead." Darien said, giving her his hand. His heart stuttered when he felt the ring slide past his knuckle and settle into place. He glanced at Bobby and felt relief wash over him when he found the same stunned expression on his fiancée's face. The surprises didn't end there, however. Eberts pulled a second box out of his pocket and Claire joined the ranks of the astonished.  
  
"I wasn't at all sure about this, Claire. I had nearly made up my mind to keep this second purchase a secret.... until I heard you speak just now. While selecting the engagement rings for Robert and Darien, I saw these and.... well, I did mention I've been having trouble resisting sudden impulses, didn't I?"  
  
Cracking open the second box, Eberts revealed the two identical gold Claddah rings inside. "You must understand, I would never try to... I realize that we're only... They represent...."  
  
"... friendship, yes I know. Oh, Albert... they're lovely...."  
  
For a terrifying moment, Eberts was certain she was about to refuse his gesture. His heart hovered, fluttering on the edge of being utterly crushed.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Would you put mine on?"  
  
"Would... oh, yes! Certainly!" he replied, now trying frantically to slow the beat of a heart that had been ready to give up the ghost a minute before.  
  
Abruptly, Bobbi crowed, burbled and slapped the tray of her high chair with both hands. Claire laughed brightly.  
  
"And that means?"  
  
Darien faced away from the group for a moment, listening intently to his daughter, then turned back, grinning.  
  
"She's happy for everybody. Oh, an' she wants more bread pudding."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE APARTMENT: LATER THAT NIGHT  
  
"Go on. I know it's buggin' you. Go ahead an' ask."  
  
"We'll talk after. I need to get her midnight snack warmed up." Darien responded as he pulled a bottle from the fridge.  
  
Laying secure in her mother's arms, Bobbi smiled up at Darien and sent him a message that her hunger was not yet at the critical stage and she could, indeed, wait until after he and his fiancée had talked.  
  
"What'd she say?" Hobbes asked, by now well versed in recognizing Darien's 'Bobbi's communicating' expression.  
  
"That she can wait a little while."  
  
"So? Let's get this outta the way so we can go to bed."  
  
"You'll be straight with me?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
A few minutes later, the three were sitting in the living room. In spite of their agreement, Darien was having a hard time opening Bobby up.  
  
"C'mon, Hobbes. You said..."  
  
"I know, I know. It's just.... when I get mad words don't come so easy an'... she makes me wanna put my fist through a wall sometimes."  
  
"She's not worth the plaster and paint to fix the hole. Just tell me."  
  
"She wants to come here.... to talk she says. It's a damn lie. She thinks she'll waltz in here, open her arms an' I'll go runnin' back to her. She better think again, that's all I gotta say...."  
  
"If you're that sure, why do her calls make you so damned upset?"  
  
"I don't know.... bad memories. I think she likes makin' me mad. Knowin' she *knows* she ticked me off makes me even madder.... it just goes round an' round."  
  
"We haven't talked much about the wedding. Who's gettin' invited an all? Claire, Eberts an' Cheryl are the obvious ones, but...."  
  
"Hey! About time you started talkin' sense! I'm the one who said you shoulda called 'em back when you were still pregnant...."  
  
"Not my family. That's not what I'm sayin'."  
  
"Then wh.... crap. Here I was thinkin' you'd changed the subject."  
  
"Did I say she should give you away? No, but in spite of every cruel, stupid, hurtful thing Viv's done to you, Hobbes, you need to tell her. She deserves to know an' you deserve to be done with her once and for all."  
  
"Claire tried to talk me into makin' that call weeks ago. I'll tell you the same thing I told her. No."  
  
"Bobby, just listen..."  
  
"No! You made me believe that leavin' the past in the past was the best thing to do an' you were right on the money. Viv is behind me, now. I'm happy. I found real love with somebody who wants me for me an' won't walk the minute the tiniest thing goes wrong. You're what I need now, not her...."  
  
"Bobby... c'mere." Darien petitioned, gesturing to the arm of the chair he was sitting in. Slowly, grudgingly Bobby acquiesced, knowing he was about to be won over by Darien's most powerful and persuasive weapons: indisputable logic and his dark eyes. "If you can't think of any other reason to call Viv, do it for the pure pleasure of telling her exactly what you just told me."  
  
"It'll kill her."  
  
"Damn right. Callin' her isn't about draggin' up the past again, Hobbes. It's about finally lettin' it go. Put Viv in the ground, do your grieving... an' say goodbye."  
  
For a few minutes, Bobby was silent, pondering Darien's words and eventually his thoughts drifted back to what Claire had to say on the subject.  
  
"You got no room to talk, bud." Bobby responded quietly, knowing his words would have impact enough. "You ain't been to the cemetery in a year. Not since that day you ran there an' we tracked you down. You blew up at Kev.... an' the universe in general, I guess. Don't think you got much settled though."  
  
"If I remember right, you wouldn't let me. You even said I..."  
  
"Don't stop. Finish the sentence."  
  
"No."  
  
"I'll do it then. I said you needed to let it go, that we'd work it all out later. I didn't keep that promise an' I'm really sorry."  
  
"It wasn't your responsibility, Bobby. You only said that 'cause you were worried about the baby...."  
  
"Come again? You actually think I sat there on wet grass, in the middle of a cemetery an' put my arms around you.... *just* for the baby? I did it 'cause I can't stand to see you hurtin', you numbskull!"  
  
"Not exactly a Shakespeare sonnet, but it'll do...."  
  
"Can we get back to the point? Do we have a deal or not?"  
  
"Deal? What deal?"  
  
"You help me after I call Viv an' tell her what's goin' on, I'll be with you when you take Bobbi to see Kev."  
  
"It's not the same thing. Kev was my brother. His death.... it's not like I can just stuff all the crud that comes with that into a little.... mental box and shove it in a corner. If I go there, I'll have to talk.... an' I don't know what to say anymore."  
  
"Then we'll help each other with that too. Hey, I'm not so sure even you standin' right beside me would be enough to get me through this call. I know how she'll react... what she'll say. It's not gonna be pretty, that's for sure..."  
  
"She's hurt you so much an' so often.... I understand she's got a part of you that I can't touch, but.... maybe if you can stand up to her just once it'll break this hold she has on your heart."  
  
"What? No, Fawkes. God, no.... I love *you*. I only ever loved you. I finally know that. I didn't marry Viv for love. It was outta loneliness. I've never been real good at bein' alone. Too much time with just me an' I get squirrelly an' grouchy.... an' depressed. At the time, she was there.... an' I didn't wanna be alone anymore. That's a lousy reason to do anything. This time I do it right. This time I do it for love."  
  
"Damn... okay. If you swear you'll go with me... maybe I'm ready to go back an' see him again. Maybe it's time he heard the truth.... time I told it. You've got a deal."  
  
"Good. It'll be okay, you'll see. She ready for that snack yet?"  
  
"Yeah. Here. Go to Daddy, sweetness."  
  
Carefully, Darien lifted Bobbi and handed her up to her father. Hobbes gently draped her over his shoulder then gazed down and studied Bobbi's drooping head. "She's half asleep already. Don't know if we even need the bottle."  
  
"She says don't even think about it. Bottle an' make it fast ." Darien chuckled, smiling softly at Bobby.  
  
"Gotta love her. My attitude an' your stomach. Hey... what're you grinnin' at?"  
  
"You. Every time I hear that word come outta your mouth it makes my heart jump.... an' I have to smile. I can't hear it often enough."  
  
"An that word would be...."  
  
Darien rose to his feet, leaned down and gave Bobby a quick kiss on the lips.  
  
"Love, numbskull. Love. I'll go get Bobbi's crib ready."  
  
"Be right there soon as the bottle's warm."  
  
"Take your time. I gotta find places to put her million an' one stuffed animals."  
  
"Yeah. Ya know, I don't mind Claire and Eberts buyin' her somethin' new every month, but we gotta have a talk with 'em about bein' more creative."  
  
"Hey, she loves every single one."  
  
"Except the gorilla. Every time I put it back in her crib or her playpen, she pitches it back out."  
  
Darien paused on his way to the bedroom, then abruptly burst out laughing.  
  
"What?"  
  
"She says you like monkeys so much, the gorilla's yours."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC....... 


	20. If I Knew You Were Coming

A Wedding song 20: If I Knew You Were Coming....  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY  
  
"No."  
  
"Darien... c'mon. You gotta."  
  
"I do not."  
  
Bobby leaned his forehead briefly against the wall just outside the Official's closed office door and sighed out his exasperation.  
  
"You got no choice. You knew this was comin'..."  
  
"I don't care! Why can't he see that you and I make the perfect team? You and me, Fawkes and Hobbes. Why the hell do we need somebody else? Look what happened with the last third wheel he tried to add on!"  
  
"For cryin' out loud... okay, I'll admit Monroe was a little unstable..."  
  
"A little?!"  
  
"So she went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. That doesn't change the good stuff she did before. If she hadn't been there in Vegas, Bobbi Claire could be an orphan right now. We can't always watch every inch of each other's backs. Sometimes.... we need a third agent. You know that."  
  
"It's not fair, damn it..."  
  
"Maybe not, but that's life in the employ a'the US government. Nobody's forcin' ya to take the guy bowlin'. Just... come in an' meet him, okay?"  
  
"I got better things to do. We should be out trackin' down Stark..."  
  
"I know, an' we'll get to that. This is just a meet an' greet. It shouldn't take all that long."  
  
"I need to be outta there in time to go to therapy."  
  
"You will be. Do I hear a yes comin' on?"  
  
"Yeah... nothin' says I have to like him, right?"  
  
"Not a damn thing."  
  
"Good. Let's get this over with."  
  
After favoring Darien with a quick kiss of gratitude, Bobby opened the door and led the way into the office.  
  
"Only twenty minutes late, gentlemen. Forget to replace the batteries in your watches?" Borden questioned gruffly, but with humor sparkling in his eyes.  
  
"Nah. We were outside tryin' to figure out how the doorknob worked." Darien countered, renewing the game that he and his boss had been engaged in for the past week or two, to the delight of Borden and the utter confusion of his well-paid secret weapon. Fawkes had no idea what force of nature was slowly transforming Charlie Borden into a human being but he wasn't about to risk jinxing the change by not playing along.  
  
"It seems you mastered it. You'll be tying your own shoes next."  
  
Darien grinned, but did not venture a comeback. He'd learned early on that the first rule of the game was Charlie always got the last word. "Now that you're here we can get on with the purpose for this briefing. Eberts, if you'll show him in, please?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Moving to the second door in the office, Eberts leaned into the room next door, spoke quietly then stood back and allowed the Agency's newest employee to enter. Bobby stood immediately, but Darien had to be prompted.  
  
"Get on your feet, kid! Don't you make me look bad...."  
  
"Agent Fawkes, Agent Hobbes. Meet your new team member. This is Special Agent Daniel Masters."  
  
The tall, well-built man strode confidently forward to join the group. As the others moved to greet the newcomer Darien held back, carefully studying the latest addition to their most unusual family. He marginally approved of the length and style of the man's sandy blonde hair, but decided to reserve judgment on everything else.  
  
"Hey." Bobby said shaking Masters' hand vigorously. "Welcome to the asylum. A little tip; get your Valium before everybody else does. The supply don't last long around here."  
  
"Interesting greeting. Beats ' Hi, how are you' I guess." The other man chuckled.  
  
"You'll learn real fast that nothin's ever normal around here."  
  
"Never a dull moment, hmm?"  
  
"Not ever. That's what makes workin' here so much.... well, fun ain't the word exactly."  
  
"Stimulating?"  
  
"Close enough. Have a seat."  
  
The group, all except Eberts, claimed their chairs again. Borden grinned at them and Darien instantly got mildly nauseous.  
  
"What?"  
  
"No need to look so worried, Fawkes. I'm giving you all the day off today.... in a fashion. I want you to spend a few hours getting to know each other. Show Daniel around the city, help him get oriented. Then find a quiet, private place and show him what you can do."  
  
"Wait a minute. I got my.... appointment today."  
  
"I'm sure Bobby can handle him alone for that hour. Go on, now. The three of you go get acquainted."  
  
Darien glared at Bobby pointedly.  
  
"Okay, so I was wrong. It don't *have* to be bowlin' though..."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE PARKING GARAGE: A FEW MINUTES LATER  
  
"So. What do you feel like doin'?" Bobby asked the newcomer. "Anything except bars or strip clubs is okay."  
  
"Because? Not that I would have suggested either of those anyway, but I'm curious."  
  
"I got good reasons to give up both an' better things to do with my time."  
  
Danny glanced down at Bobby's left hand and smiled in understanding. Hobbes noticed him noticing and blushed slightly before returning the smile.  
  
"I see. Congratulations. "  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Okay. So alcohol and naked women are out. What's left... how about greasy food, way too much chocolate ice cream and mini-golf?"  
  
"Oh, yeah! Count me in!" Darien piped up excitedly from the passenger's seat of the SUV. Danny grinned indulgently at Fawkes' youthful exuberance as he settled into the back seat.  
  
"Not for you, bud. You got an appointment, remember?"  
  
"I can skip it just this once..."  
  
"No you can't. Cheryl'd read us both the riot act an' you know it. Skippin' ain't an option unless it's really important. Feedin' your bottomless pit stomach don't count."  
  
"Bobby..."  
  
"No. Get your belt on, kid. We gotta get movin' or you'll be late." Hobbes announced with finality as he slid into the driver's position and buckled his own safety belt.  
  
"Tell you what, Agent Hobbes." Masters offered, leaning forward slightly. "Why don't you show me some of the sights of San Diego while Agent Fawkes does what he has to do? Then we can eat and hit the putt-putt course after we pick him up."  
  
Darien nodded frantically, squinching his eyes shut and folding his hands in prayer.  
  
"You sure you don't mind?"  
  
"Not at all. I've only been in town a little while. I'd love to see some of the historical places, check out the architecture, find out what restaurants to avoid so I don't get poisoned..."  
  
Bobby laughed.  
  
"Okay. Long as that's what you want."  
  
Darien drew his bent arm back along his ribs sharply and hissed;  
  
"Yesss! Shoot, score! I get junk food *and* I get to whip your butts at mini-golf! Life is good."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, junior. Who whipped whose butt last time? Huh? C'mon. Say it. Who wiped the artificial turf with who?"  
  
"You, but only 'cause you cheated! I know you kicked your ball in the hole on the eighteenth, you just won't admit it!"  
  
"I did no such thing. Bobby Hobbes never has to cheat to win."  
  
"Yeah? What about when we were playin' X-box the other night? You kicked out the plug when you thought I wasn't lookin'!"  
  
Bobby flushed and ducked his head slightly.  
  
"I live in the real world, partner, not in Nintendo-land... an' that was an accident, I told you..."  
  
In the back, Danny relaxed into the seat behind him, arms crossed over his chest, grinning as he absorbed the dynamic between the two men.  
  
{Oh these two are going to be an utter trip to work with. I can't wait to find out what the Official meant when he told Fawkes to show me what he can do...}  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"So things are going well?"  
  
"Understatement of the year, doc. Everything is better since.... since that day."  
  
"You still can't get over being embarrassed about that, hmm?"  
  
"I'm workin' on it. I just don't like gettin' that emotional in fronta anybody but Bobby or Claire."  
  
"Remind me who Claire is again."  
  
"She's a medical doctor at the Agency. Well, she's more of a scientist I guess, but she's usually the one who patches me an' Hobbes up when we run headlong into bad guys an' brick walls.... stuff like that. She's also one of my best friends... oh, and Bobbi's god mother. Can't forget that."  
  
"Ah-ha. The origin of Roberta's middle name."  
  
"You got it."  
  
"Does her Godfather work with you as well?"  
  
"Yeah. Another incredible friend. When Bobbi Claire first came along, he helped us so much. Just about lost his job 'cause he was spendin' so much time watchin' the baby while we got everything ready for her. Nothin' you can do to get friends like that. I think God just... puts 'em there when we need 'em so we always have a lifeline to hang onto. Eberts... that's what he is. God's gift to new parents."  
  
"He sounds like an amazing man."  
  
"You don't know the half of it. Bein' an accountant, he's always been this straight-laced, stick up his butt, numbers and paperwork are everything guy. Since Bobbi Claire, he's changed so much. When he holds her, he gets this look on his face like he's about to fall apart or melt into a puddle of goo on the floor. An' this.... this was completely outta the blue." he told her, holding out his left hand for Cheryl to view. "I never woulda thought he could keep a secret if it wasn't about work, but he shocked me an' Bobby outta our shoes, I swear. Eberts an' Claire threw us a big engagement party an' surprised with these a few days back."  
  
"It's beautiful. Bobby's is identical?"  
  
"Uh-huh, except mine has his name engraved inside an' his has mine. I'd show you, but..."  
  
"Oh, no. Of course you don't want to take it off. Have the two of you talked about a date for the ceremony yet?"  
  
"Not yet. It's been.... crazy at work lately. No time to think about anything but keepin' our heads down and dodgin' the fallout."  
  
"Fallout? Is it anything you can tell me about?"  
  
"I guess. It's not classified. Another agent, one we worked with a lot... she kinda... lost it."  
  
"It?"  
  
"Everything. She went nuts. Nearly took my baby with her too..."  
  
"Maybe you'd better start at the beginning."  
  
"Yeah... well, see this agent, she had to give up her own baby a couple years ago. She never got over it. Claire was watchin' Roberta Claire an' this other woman walked in an' took both of 'em hostage. Shot poor Claire in the kneecap. It'll heal, but it'll never be totally right again."  
  
"How did you find out what was going on?"  
  
"The psy... she... called me on my cell phone. Said I'd killed her son an' now she was gonna kill my daughter." Darien said, casting a quick glance at Cheryl before improvising the next part. He didn't want to go into the super-growth formula and James' real cause of death, certain she wouldn't believe him. "I said... he's not dead. I couldn't prove it of course. None of us knows where the kid went after.... She told me to go back to the Agency... she wanted me there to watch Claire an' my baby die. I rushed back, found out where they were... I walked in an' I tried to talk to her, but... she wouldn't listen. She couldn't, I guess. Help finally got there... they wounded her bad enough so she had to give up. I looked at my baby... I didn't think about anything. Not that I remember, anyhow. I just ran to her.... I pulled her away from that crazy b... from that woman. It was the first time I'd held my little girl in, like, two weeks. I sat on the floor... I just held onto her, talked to her. Since then... I have a hard time puttin' her down. Bobby says I'm gonna end up carrying her to college."  
  
"I'm sure she'll be telling you to go soak your head long before that. A teenager's job is to make their parents feel as old as possible and convince them that they know absolutely nothing."  
  
"Teenager.... she's gonna be a teenager... ah, crap...." Darien moaned, slapping his hands over his eyes and sagging in his chair. His reaction drew a laugh from Cheryl.  
  
"Yes, but not any time soon, fortunately. Where you are with Roberta right now is a wonderful place. She's not quite walking yet, she still depends on you for everything and you and Bobby are her world. It's good that you're taking advantage of this opportunity while you have it. It doesn't last nearly as long as you wish it would."  
  
"I know.... she's already pullin' up, figurin' out her balance. The other night, she stood up in her playpen.... she made a sound, this little yell, like 'Hey, wow, look at me! I did it!' I wanted... I wished I could tell her to slow down.... that she wasn't ready yet. But.... it's me who's not ready."  
  
"No parent is. The only consolation we have is knowing that every milestone they pass, every step they find the courage to take means we did our job right."  
  
"Yeah. I guess I'm just.... I'm not so sure I can do the job at all. Nothin' in my life ever scared me this much. She's countin' on me not to be a screw-up...."  
  
"That's another wonderful thing about babies. They're clueless about our pasts, and even if they knew how many times we've done a face-plant into the mud, they wouldn't care. All they want or need is to be secure and to be loved. You've given her that. Everything else will come in time."  
  
"No manual? You're sure about that?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure. You're not alone, Darien. Besides Bobby, you just got finished telling me that you have at least two other people who are ready, willing and able to support you through anything."  
  
"And you."  
  
"And me. Raising a child is scary, no question, but you can't let that fear convince you to isolate yourself. When you get frightened or you feel as if the world's crashing down on your head, you need to reach out."  
  
"I try.... it's so new to me..."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"Trusting that somebody's gonna reach back. It's such a damn risk. It's like puttin' your hand out in the dark, knowin' there's a huge hole a few inches in fronta your toes.... if you stretch too far an' there's nobody there...."  
  
"Didn't Bobby tell you something like that once? I think it was about flipping a coin."  
  
Darien's expression slowly brightened as the memory returned.  
  
"Yeah. It was back when he was havin' a hard time sayin' he loved me."  
  
"That was as big a risk for him as this is for you. He was terrified of what would happen, but he took that chance. He trusted you. I understand you've been hurt. I know it seems like every time you open yourself to someone they either betray you or they go away, but don't you think it might be time to try again? Do you think you can reach out into the dark one more time?"  
  
"Maybe. Hang on... somethin' just clicked. Somethin' else I told him a long time ago.... he'd just found out I can paint. I told him I'd never really let on to anyone that I could do that. He asked me why him an why'd I finally decide to trust him with my secret. I said.... I said if anyone was worth takin' a chance on... it was him."  
  
"Is that still true?"  
  
"More than ever."  
  
"Something to think about for Monday, hmm?"  
  
"More like somethin' to talk about with Bobby...."  
  
"Also a good idea. By the way, when do I get to see some of your artwork?"  
  
Darien smiled thinly at Cheryl, faintly beginning to regret ever mentioning the subject. (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	21. Cry

A Wedding Song 21: Cry...  
  
The title is from the recent song by Faith Hill. Those of you know the words will understand the significance. I'll provide a snippet for those who aren't Country music devotees:  
  
* If I had just one tear rollin' down your cheek,  
Oh then, maybe, oh, maybe I'd get some sleep.  
If I had just one moment at your expense,  
Maybe all my misery would be well spent.... *  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
1:30 P.M  
  
"Go, Darien. It's ya birthday. We're gonna party like it's ya birthday..."  
  
"Shut up an' get in the truck." Bobby grumped at his partner, who did one final spin move and posed like a supermodel before climbing into the vehicle.  
  
"You have to admit, Agent Hobbes, a legitimate hole in one is worth a little celebration. That eighteenth was a beast." Danny commented as he slid back into the rear seat with Darien's prize, which barely fit inside the truck. Bobby made a disgusted grunt as he pulled out of the parking lot, but was otherwise silent.  
  
"Hey, it's not my fault what I got for a prize is it?"  
  
"What? You picked it!"  
  
"Okay, so it is my fault, but I couldn't resist. It was just too perfect."  
  
"They had the kid, too, or didn't you notice that?"  
  
"I didn't want Calvin. I wanted the tiger. It's about time we had one around the house. A stuffed one, I mean."  
  
Bobby blushed furiously and at the next stop light he leaned forward, pretending to see something slightly off about the gauges behind the steering wheel. Once he felt the heat begin to dissipate from his cheeks, he re-focused on the road and they took off again.  
  
"Long as you don't name it after me, it can stay."  
  
Darien gave his fiancée a genuinely confused look.  
  
"What else would I name him?"  
  
Hobbes groaned and shook his head. Darien grinned and began softly singing a made up song about blushing tigers to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down". Danny burst out with laughter, not for the first time that day.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TWO O'CLOCK: THE APARTMENT  
  
"I still don't like this. We just met him. I admit, I'm startin to like him, but...."  
  
"Chill, Fawkes. The fat man said private, right? Can't get much more private than our place."  
  
"I guess..."  
  
"What, you'd rather do this behind some supermarket somewhere an' have the deli guy come out for a smoke and catch you goin' see-through?"  
  
"No. You're right." Darien acceded, shifting Bobbi's carrier to his other hand while he waited for Hobbes to unlock the door. "I'm just... nervous."  
  
"Man, if you got performance anxiety over somethin' easy like this, that don't say much for what our weddin' night's gonna be like." Bobby snarked quietly as the trio moved into the house. Eyes wide, Darien smacked his partner solidly in the back of the head with his free hand before taking their daughter off into the bedroom to be changed.  
  
"What was that about?" Danny asked, chuckling.  
  
"Nothin' much. He thinks he's got a corner on the smart-mouth market. He has a hissy fit when I steal his thunder."  
  
"Oh. I figured it had to be something like that. Is the baby his or... damn. Speaking of mouth problems... Sorry. None of my business."  
  
"Nah, it's okay. She's Darien's and mine."  
  
"Uhhh.... I don't understand."  
  
"You will. Just have a seat on the couch. We'll be right with ya. You feel like a beer?"  
  
"Will I need it?"  
  
"Right. I'll bring two."  
  
Within a few minutes, Bobbi was settled in her playpen and the three men were gathered a few feet away, deep in discussion.  
  
"I really don't know how you handled that. To be awake during the surgery... to be aware of what they were doing...."  
  
"I was awake, but I wasn't too aware. They had me swimmin' in drugs so I wouldn't feel pain. I don't remember much."  
  
"Of course. So, they implanted this biosynthetic gland in your brain. What does it do?"  
  
"Less that it used to, for which I thank God every day of my life."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Later. Just show him, baby."  
  
"Okay. You might wanna get a good grip on something, Danny. This is gonna pretty much blow your mind."  
  
"Yeah." Bobby added. "The first time you see this happen, it can be kinda.... scary, so hold onto your boxer shorts, newbie."  
  
"Understood. Go ahead."  
  
As he had so many times before, Darien breathed deeply and consciously triggered the reaction in the gland at the base of his brain. The amazing transformation happened almost before he had time to perceive it. Suddenly, all his senses were altered, sight and touch most profoundly of all, but within a few seconds, he'd adjusted to the differences. The physical sensations were the same as always; the abrupt cold, muscles tensing at the nape of his neck, but with the passage of time and the myriad changes in his life, the thoughts connected to this moment of utter metamorphosis had changed radically.  
  
In his first few months with the gland, every use of the Quicksilver had gone hand in hand with terror and contemplations of rebellion and painful death. Now, well into the post-madness era, he recognized his implant for the valuable gift it was and gratefully acknowledged the second chance it had provided him; one he did not intend to squander. Fear was the only remnant from that long ago period of fine-tuning, but it was no longer for himself. His concern was for the child to whom he had bequeathed both a copy of his gland and the consequences that went with it.  
  
Shaking himself mentally, Darien pulled away from his own thoughts.  
  
"Is he okay, Bobby?"  
  
"I don't know. He's just kinda...starin', like maybe he had a stroke."  
  
Swiftly, Darien shed the Quicksilver coating and returned to the visible spectrum. He moved to sit beside Danny on the couch and gently began trying to revive him.  
  
"Danny. Hey, you in there? Come back, man. It's over. Danny, take a deep breath, throw up, do somethin'..."  
  
"Huh? What... how.... you...."  
  
"Yeah, that's pretty much everybody's first reaction." Darien told him, grinning. "You gonna be able to talk right eventually or should I go find a speech therapist?"  
  
"Beer."  
  
"An' that's usually their second reaction." Bobby said, pressing a cold bottle into their new friend's hand. Danny gulped half of the contents, dropped the hand with the bottle in order to take a much needed gasp of air then raised the beer again and finished it.  
  
"Damn. He's good. Better than I used to be, an' that's sayin' a lot." Darien commented.  
  
"Now I get it. It all makes sense, now."  
  
"What does?" Bobby asked.  
  
"The Official kept going on about cartoons; Secret Squirrel, Inspector Gadget, Dynomutt and Blue Falcon. I thought he might be getting a head start on senility, but now I understand. He was talking about you, Agent Fawkes."  
  
"That's just his funny way of showing how much he loves me."  
  
"Not so funny." Danny countered, sipping his second beer much more slowly. " I was ready to ask for a phone book so I could look up the nearest psychiatric hospital."  
  
"Don't worry. He's not nuts. Sneaky, ruthless an' inhuman, but not nuts."  
  
"Nice to know."  
  
"If you wanna see nuts, go take a peek at the agent you replaced. That... is nuts in it's ugliest form." Bobby responded, bitterness coloring his words.  
  
Darien suddenly grew somber and angry. He glared at Bobby pointedly. "What?"  
  
"You know damn well what."  
  
"You've been thinkin' it ever since it happened. You just won't say it."  
  
"I won't say it because it's not true. She's in pain. I'm trying to understand that and move past it, Bobby. I need to stop being angry about what she did. You're not helping."  
  
"I know.... I'm sorry. She was actin' out of her grief, I get that. Right now it just... don't matter. I can't even think about forgivin' her yet."  
  
When Darien reached out and took Bobby's hand in a gesture of comfort, the glint of his ring caught Danny's eye and suddenly a few of the oddities he'd noticed during the course of the day became not so odd.  
  
"Oh, okay. So that's why I've been getting the OMC vibe so strong. You are."  
  
"Are what?"  
  
"OMC."  
  
"Obviously Morally Corrupt?" Darien offered.  
  
"Occasionally Mentally Cracked?" Bobby tossed out  
  
"Organization of Male Cutpurses!"  
  
When he was able to stop laughing, Danny finally responded.  
  
"No, no... It means Old married Couple."  
  
The other two sobered quickly. "Hey, don't worry about me, guys. My folks brought me up to believe a rose by any other name.... The heart wants what it wants and there's no use telling it something else is better for you. If you two have decided you love each other, I'm more than cool. I can practically guarantee you'll be a lot happier than the millions of people out there pretending they don't feel they way they feel. Now... you were going to tell me about the baby..."  
  
Apparently recognizing when she was being discussed, even if her name hadn't been mentioned, Bobbi screeched gleefully and began bouncing up and down in her playpen, plainly asking for release and an introduction to the newcomer.  
  
"Hang on, sweetie. No need for the aerobics. I'm comin'."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THAT EVENING:  
  
After another hour or so of conversation, Bobby drove Danny back to the Agency while Darien stayed with Roberta Claire. Finding him fascinating, she was reluctant to see the new agent go, but restrained herself to just one faint whimper. Once Hobbes returned, he and Darien spent the next few hours on domestic tasks and rehashing their time with Danny Masters. When dinnertime finally approached, a friendly argument set in. Darien wanted healthy food, Bobby wanted anything else. It was interrupted by a visitor.  
  
"But it's what I'm craving. All the exercise today plus the extra QS session's got my appetite goin' crazy. I need the protein an' I want some miso soup so bad I can taste it."  
  
"I told you no, Fawkes. You agree to a membership at my gym, then *maybe* I'll think about tryin' sushi."  
  
"As long as I still have stretch marks, I'm not goin' anywhere near a locker room!"  
  
"Gettin' rid of the stretch marks is what the gym is for!"  
  
"Go see who's at the door, extortionist."  
  
"The door ain't the topic of conversation. We were about to do some serious negotiatin', ri.... ght... Oh damn...."  
  
As he opened the door, Bobby stumbled over the end of his sentence, stunned by the face that greeted him. "Viv? What the hell are you doin' here?"  
  
"And a pleasant evening to you too, Robert. Are you going to let me in?"  
  
"Wasn't plannin' on it. How did you know where to find me?"  
  
"I finally had to resort to getting my lawyer involved. He used one of his private investigators...."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I shoulda guessed you'd be that underhanded.... "  
  
"Underhanded indeed! What else was I supposed to do? You wouldn't talk to me on the phone, you refused to see me so that we could speak in person..."  
  
"Look, cram it, Viv. I had good reasons for blowin' you off an' you know damn well...."  
  
"Be that as it may, Robert, it's quite chilly out here. Let me in immediately."  
  
For a moment, Bobby seriously considered tossing his ex an appropriately vulgar remark and shutting the door in her face, but he knew the less painful option was to step aside and let her enter.  
  
"Fine. Only for a minute."  
  
"I was hoping we could sit.... have a cup of coffee perhaps. This is a beautiful apartment, Robert. How long have you been here?"  
  
"Thanks. None of your business. Look, just drop what whatever bomb you came here to deliver and get out, huh? This is my new home an' I don't want any nasty memories a'you in it."  
  
"Really, Robert! We may be separated, but we can still act like civilized people."  
  
"Your idea of civilized or mine? Whole different ballgame. An' the word is divorced. Signin' those papers turned out to be the best thing I ever did, too..."  
  
"Robert, please stop it! I only came here to..."  
  
"To what? That's a real good question. What the hell would ever make you think I'd wanna see you again?"  
  
"Must you always curse? I only wondered.... if you might be available for dinner tonight."  
  
"What?! You have just got to be kiddin'.... Get outta here, Viv. Now..."  
  
"Wait! I need to... talk to someone. I... I left Brock yesterday."  
  
"What, he got a hangnail or somethin'?"  
  
"Don't be crude. He's gambled away almost all his money. He's practically destitute. I believed Brock was different, but he's like most men.... weak, useless creatures who can't stand on their own two feet for more than two minutes without a woman's hand under their elbow."  
  
"Same old Viv. Say I love you, make a vow an' run for your life the second the water gets a little choppy. Like I said, gettin' away from you was the best choice I ever made. Why don't you...."  
  
Whatever Bobby had intended to say next, his train of thought derailed and burst into flames when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Darien walk into the room with Roberta Claire in his arms. Utterly wrapped up in her smile, he was unaware of the visitor until he raised his eyes in response to his partner calling his name.  
  
"Darien... go in the kitchen for a few minutes, wouldja?"  
  
"No. Hey, Viv. Long time no see."  
  
{Next time make it longer...} he thought but did not say, knowing his role was as Bobby's support, not second in command in the insult brigade.  
  
"Fawkes...."  
  
"We made a deal, Bobby. In person is better than on the phone, right? She's here.... go on and tell her. I got your back, you know that."  
  
Reluctantly, Bobby turned back to his ex-wife, sighed and motioned her to a chair.  
  
"I don't understand, Robert. What's going on? Who is this man and whose child is that?"  
  
"Just... sit, okay? I got a story to tell an' you don't wanna be standin' up for it."  
  
After a bit of hesitation, Vivian moved to sit in the chair Hobbes had pointed out and he dropped to the couch beside Darien. "Okay.... first off, this is my partner, Darien Fawkes. You met him once, but you never had a great memory. The baby is mine.... ours."  
  
"Wait. Slow down, Robert. You're not making sense. A baby? You can't possibly have a baby. Who could stand you long enough to even *conceive* never mind bear a child?"  
  
"Not "the baby", not "the child". She's my daughter... an' she has a name."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Roberta Claire."  
  
"Named after you. Typical of your enormous ego. So... where is the child's mother?" she asked smugly, believing she knew the answer all too well.  
  
"Dead. Complications with the birth."  
  
This reply evaporated a great deal of Viv's arrogance, but it was swiftly replaced with false sympathy and mock concern which only drove Bobby's emotional temperature higher.  
  
"Oh... Oh, I am sorry, Robert, but surely you can't mean you're raising her alone? It must be so... difficult for you."  
  
Hobbes turned his gaze on Darien and Bobbi and, despite a warning shiver that told him he should hide his feelings from his jealous and vengeful ex-spouse, he couldn't keep his emotions from showing in his face.  
  
"Nah. I'm not alone.... not anymore. Darien, he's been tryin' to get me to call you, tell you about our plans. I put it off an' put it off... I didn't wanna deal with you.... but he's right. You need to know this. I'm gettin' married again."  
  
"Married? That's ridiculous, Robert. Who'd have you, a coma patient? Robert. When I'm speaking to you I'd appreciate your full attention.... oh my Lord. You said *our* plans. No... you're not... you are serious. Why didn't you call me? How long has it been this bad?"  
  
"Bad? What're you babblin' about now...."  
  
"When did you stop taking your pills?! You know the doctor warned you that if you stopped the medication you'd slip right back into the paranoia and then anyone could manipulate you! What did he say to get you to abduct this poor little girl?"  
  
"Do you *ever* listen to yourself? Compared to you, Charlie Manson's playin' with a full deck an' two jokers.... Look, just calm down, okay?"  
  
"Calm down? He's sitting there holding a stolen baby and you want me to calm down?!"  
  
"That's enough. Time to go."  
  
Finally realizing he would get nowhere while Viv was hysterical, Bobby rose, grabbing his ex's wrist to force her to move with him, and began to guide the woman toward the exit.  
  
"Robert.... you're hurting me!"  
  
"Payback's a bitch, just like you." he growled, flinging open the door. "I tried to tell him, ya know? She'll never change, I said. As long as Viv gets her way, she don't give a damn who she hurts an' she never will.... Darien says you got a right to this much an' he's usually on track, so here it is, but after this I don't ever wanna see your face again, got me? After Roberta's mom died, Darien saved my life. He kept me from followin' her outta this world like I wanted to. I asked him to help me raise my daughter an' somewhere along the way.... we fell in love. He gives me everything you never did.... all the things you never had to give plus a lotta stuff you'll never even understand. He's what I want and need now. We're gettin' married, real soon I hope, an' just in case I ain't made it clear enough how I feel yet, you should know you you're not invited. Get out."  
  
"Robert, you can't blame me for what I was thinking. The whole situation is a little bizarre...."  
  
"Oh, I blame you for a lotta stuff, lady. What you think.... that's the least of it. I've done my duty as your ex an' a decent human being. Do yours and leave."  
  
"Ro.... Bobby...."  
  
"Quit! Just... quit. I'm gonna try an' be happy. You go do the same with the next poor shlub who's dumb enough to let you wrap him around your finger. Wipe my existence outta your head, okay? I'll do you the same favor." Bobby told her wearily as he pushed her over the threshold and closed the door.  
  
As Hobbes trudged back into the living room, he realized that Darien had placed Bobbi in her bassinet and was standing by the couch waiting for him, ready to give his partner whatever he needed. He could see all too clearly how hard Bobby was working to hold himself together and he instinctively opened his arms.  
  
"C'mere, baby. It's okay. Lean on me, love..." Darien murmured as Hobbes almost fell into his embrace. "I'm so proud of you.... you did it. It's over now.... you're done. Let go if you want to.... cry it out... be sad if that's what you feel...."  
  
"I'm not! I'm not sad...." Bobby contradicted him, struggling halfheartedly to pull away, aching for something he could touch and fight and physically subdue, instead of having to face intangible enemies. Darien recognized his sudden resistance as a symptom of his overwhelmed emotions and held him more tightly.  
  
"Then what is it? Hmmm? Tell me."  
  
"I'm mad! I'm so freakin' mad... I can't breathe! I wasted so much time... so much a'myself on somebody who didn't give a damn about me.... Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I know she couldn't love me..."  
  
"Bobby... I don't have any answers. Please, don't let her do this to you. I'm so sorry she hurt you like this.... I love you. Long as you remember that.... it's always gonna be okay."  
  
"I hate her.... I hate her for walkin' away, I hate her for makin' it look so easy. The day she left... you woulda thought she was goin out to get the car washed.... God... I hate the bitch..."  
  
"Bobby, don't, okay? Don't waste anymore anger or tears on her. She's weak an' afraid.... that's all she is, all she ever will be. She can't help that. Don't cry over her anymore, baby. Stop givin' her all your power. Take it back, Bobby.... please take it back...."  
  
"You don't understand...."  
  
"Hell, I don't. I've got my own temptations, Hobbes.... people an' a life that could pull me back in if I let it.... if I gave up the power. Because of you, Bobbi, Eberts an' Claire I fight to stay here. I fight to keep what I have 'cause what I have is way too precious to ever lose. I love you, damn it. I love you, I want you, I need you.... Fight, Bobby. Fight for yourself.... fight for us."  
  
Darien stopped speaking then, feeling he'd said the most important words, the ones Bobby truly needed to hear. Beyond that point, he simply held Bobby, stroking his back and waiting until his fiancée was ready to be let go.  
  
"Geez... I messed up your shirt.... got it all wet. I'm sorry, man. I was actin' like a big dweeb, here...."  
  
"No way. You were gettin' rid of some old pain you've been storin' up. You've needed to say that stuff for a long time. Maybe now you can start to heal."  
  
"Maybe.... We've still got your talk with Kev to get past."  
  
"Yeah. Not exactly lookin' forward to that."  
  
"You know I'll be there, just like you were here for me tonight."  
  
"That's the only thing that's keepin' me from scrappin' the idea all together. Man, I am now officially ready to chew on a table leg. You ready to go eat?"  
  
"No sushi."  
  
"Okay, okay. Surf an' turf?"  
  
"I say I'm starvin', but I need to throw some water on my face an'... you're gonna have to change that shirt."  
  
"Yeah... gimme ten minutes."  
  
"To get Bobbi into her jacket? I'll give you twenty at the outside."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC........ 


	22. Open Your Heart

A Wedding Song 22/?: Open Your Heart  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE FOLLOWING DAY  
  
"What's up with you? You look like Saddam hawked up one in your banana split." Bobby commented, shifting their daughter from one hip to the other as the couple approached Betsy's office. Darien narrowed his eyes and gave his partner an utterly disgusted look.  
  
"Hobbes.... Why can't you ever just say 'You look upset.' "  
  
" 'Cause I got style, that's why."  
  
"Style? I wouldn't call it that..."  
  
"Okay, okay. No fightin' in front of the kid. Answer the question."  
  
"It's this.... this session."  
  
"Betsy? I thought we both said we liked her..."  
  
"I like her fine. I'm just not sure we should tell her the truth about Bobbi Claire. So far, we haven't told anybody except the ones who needed to know or who would've found out anyway."  
  
"She already knows about the Q gland an' she saw the C-section scar durin' your checkup. She's gotta be wonderin'. I mean, if she's gonna marry us, it's only right she gets the whole picture. It's better than havin' her pass out at the ceremony if either one of us mentions the pregnancy in our vows."  
  
"You trust her?"  
  
"Ari, you know how careful I am since Alex.... Yeah, I trust Betsy. I get a good feelin' about her."  
  
"Me too. We can always use one more pillar in our support system, right?"  
  
"That's the way. You ready?"  
  
"Almost. Lemme see that angel-face for a minute..." he said, reaching out for Roberta. Bobby passed her to her mother, understanding that Darien intended to touch her mind directly and, though they never strictly needed it, physical contact seemed to make it easier on Bobbi. "Hey. We're gonna go see a new friend, baby girl. You okay with that? Who is it? The lady that's gonna marry your daddy an' me, at least we hope so anyway. Marry... it means you wanna be together forever, so you say a lot of words that all pretty much boil down to I love you. Then you give each other rings an' you eat cake an'... that's about it."  
  
Bobbi frowned lightly and sent a question at Darien. In response he lifted his left hand and showed her the glowing silver engagement band. Her eyes stayed locked to the shining object for several seconds, then she met Darien's gaze again, her expression somber and intent. The next question she transmitted brought instant tears to her mother's eyes and he hugged her close to his body, her arms slipping automatically around his neck. "No, baby. Never. He promised me... now I'm promising you. That'll never happen again. "  
  
"What?" Bobby asked, concerned. "What'd she say?"  
  
"She.... she showed me a picture of you driving away in the truck.... then I saw one of those really dark paintings I did when.... I think she was askin' if us gettin' married means you won't ever go away again."  
  
"Oh, God.... she still worries I might... but that was...."  
  
Quickly, tears sprang to Bobby's eyes as well and he embraced both his fiancée and his daughter. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. That's what married means, alright. I'm never gonna be that stupid or that far away from you ever again. Daddy loves you Bobbi...."  
  
Just then, the door to the office opened and Betsy stepped out.  
  
"Well. I was wondering where you'd gotten to. Now I see what the holdup was."  
  
"Ummm... yeah, we..."  
  
"Don't worry about it. Your lateness is forgiven. Just for future reference, though, sudden bursts of affection are the only excuse I'll accept and I validate people, not parking." she joked, grinning. The group hug dissolved gradually and Darien beckoned to Betsy. She advanced slowly, giving the baby time to examine her and decide how she felt about the situation. When she drew within touching range, however, all her concerns were erased as Bobbi smiled and leaned out, reaching for the redhead. Darien chuckled and transferred his daughter into Betsy's arms. "Wow." she exclaimed softly over the baby's shoulder. "Does this mean I've been accepted into the clan?"  
  
"Looks like." Hobbes replied. "Once he told her you were gonna put her parents together forever, I don't think there was much chance a'you gettin' rejected."  
  
"So that's what the tears are about. Thinking romantic thoughts, were we?" she teased gently.  
  
"Kinda. That's only part of it. Let's go in and sit." Bobby suggested.  
  
Betsy leading the way, the group made their way into the office and found seats. For several minutes, silence reined as Bobbi stared unwaveringly at the woman holding her. Betsy held the infant's gaze steadily. Eventually, Bobbi scowled, huffed out a short breath and looked to her mother. Finally released, Betsy shook her head and laughed uneasily.  
  
"That.... was unnerving. I felt like she was trying to get something across to me... and I just didn't have the right receiver to pick up the signal."  
  
"Don't feel bad. Neither do I." Bobby said, turning to Darien. "Go on. Tell us what she said."  
  
"Not much. Basically she's just confused an' a little frustrated. She thinks Betsy should've been able to understand her. Don't ask me *why* she thinks that, but...."  
  
"Understand her? What are you talking about, Darien?"  
  
Darien sighed.  
  
"First things first. You never mentioned my scar during your exam. You had to have noticed it. Right?"  
  
"Of course I did, but I wasn't about to pry. I figured if it was something vital it would have been in your records or you would have told me yourself."  
  
"Yeah... there's a reason I didn't. I was afraid you wouldn't believe me. That scar? It's exactly what you thought it was."  
  
"How do you know what I thought?"  
  
"You're not stupid is how." Bobby replied. "There's only a couple things it could be, an' as smart as I think you are, you woulda thrown out the first two or three right off the bat. You thought it looked like a C-section... an' you're right."  
  
"That makes no sense."  
  
"It didn't to me either when I first found out." Darien said. "Claire assumed she knew almost everything about the gland. We all did. What none of us counted on is that if you mix extreme amounts of beer, testosterone and Quicksilver, you land smack in the middle of the Twilight Zone."  
  
"You mean you and Bobby...."  
  
"Yeah. Without going into graphic detail, we got drunk, we got busy.... I got pregnant."  
  
"Pregnant. Incredible. So.... tell me that's not why you feel like you need to make this official. I can almost guarantee it isn't from the way you are with each other, but if you confirm it for me, I'd feel a lot better about performing this ceremony."  
  
Bobby stared at Darien, who returned his incredulous gaze.  
  
"She's not freaking out."  
  
"I know." Bobby responded, turning back to Betsy. "Why ain't you freakin' out?"  
  
"I have a really open mind and I'm a rabid X-files fan. Thanks to David Duchovny's phenomenal acting ability, I can roll with almost anything if you give me a couple minutes to think about it. Now, can we get back to you two and the reasons you're considering marriage?"  
  
After one more shocked glance at each other, Bobby and Darien both burst out laughing. Roberta Claire joined in and the general atmosphere of mirth drew Betsy in too. Once they had all calmed down, the real interview began.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TWO HOURS LATER  
  
"Well? C'mon, Betsy. You've been sittin' there for ten minutes now. Say somethin'." Bobby encouraged. He had been as patient as it was possible for him to be up to that point, but he knew their wedding probably rode on this woman's evaluation, so he was getting antsy. Betsy teased the couple by waiting a few extra seconds then she sat forward and smiled brightly.  
  
"I'm impressed. You took a difficult situation and turned it into one of the most obvious cases of devotion and adoration I've ever seen. Your little girl has been blessed with two great parents. Let's set the date, guys." she announced, pulling out her schedule book and flipping it open.  
  
"Well... we were thinkin' maybe Christmas. It'll be close to Bobbi's birthday an'..."  
  
Betsy looked up and threw Hobbes a skeptical glance.  
  
"That's 4 months. I don't think there's any way you two can wait that long."  
  
"We have to." Darien countered. "There's way too much to plan. I mean, the food..."  
  
"Grocery store party platters and I'll make the cake. Next."  
  
"The music...."  
  
"You said you were doing this at your place. I think a DJ would be too much for a home setting. CD's and a boom box is a better choice and you probably already have both. Keep going."  
  
"Tuxes?"  
  
"Two weeks at the most for fittings, even with your height and his shoulders. Matter of fact, I know a fantastic guy that'll do it in a week and a half if I bribe him with Godiva chocolate and a good bottle of cognac. C'mon. Don't stop now. I love a challenge."  
  
"Rings." Bobby said smugly. "We're gonna need rings and no way can...."  
  
Betsy flipped through a business card holder on her desk while Bobby was still talking and handed him one before he could even get the rest of his sentence out. His confidence vanished.  
  
"I send all my couples to this store. They do the best work in town, they're fast and when you see their prices you'll wonder how they stay in business. Anything else?" she asked, grinning at the two men as if she knew the game was over before it started.  
  
"Okay, okay. We surrender." Darien replied, laughing. "So how's your schedule look for two weeks from this Saturday?"  
  
"You just happen to be in luck. I've got one on the books for this weekend, then I'm pretty much free for the rest of the month."  
  
"Bobby? Is that okay with you?"  
  
"Sooner the better, baby. After all the stuff we've made it through, even half a month feels like another whole year."  
  
"I know.... but it sounds like that's the minimum to get everything done. You got it, Betsy. Write it in pen. Use permanent marker if you have to. Two weeks from Saturday we make it official, even if it's not legal."  
  
Betsy grimaced and made a derisive noise.  
  
"Leave that crap to the politicians. You two love each other, you love your child and you're already a stronger family than ninety percent of the so-called ' normal ' couples out there. You'll be fine. Now go order your rings. I've got planning to do. I'll see you two in a week to discuss the details, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks, Betsy." Bobby said gratefully as he stood up, sliding Roberta over to his hip so he could hold her with one arm and quickly shake hands with the other.  
  
"You're more than welcome. I can't wait. I just know this'll be a blast and once I add commitment ceremonies to my JP business card, my phone is going to explode. I might even have to quit the Agency."  
  
"I've tried. It isn't that easy." Darien joked before also shaking hands, turning and following his fiancée out of the office. From there they took a minute to check with the Official and make sure nothing major was brewing then they left to go ring shopping.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"I don't know. I can't decide." Bobby murmured, peering closely at the case of rings the shop assistant had set out for them to look at. "I like the platinum and the price is decent. The gold's gonna stand out against the silver. It'd be real noticeable. Do we want that, though?"  
  
Darien chuckled quietly and ran a hand over his face. "What? You look like you got somethin' to say on the subject."  
  
"I had a talk with Eberts about that a while back. I wasn't sure what I'd say if someone saw my ring an' wanted to.... discuss it. He said if I'm not ashamed of you or of how we feel about each other, the best thing I could do would be to tell the truth an' let whoever asked the question deal with the fall-out."  
  
"Yeah? And?"  
  
"I'm not ashamed. I like the gold."  
  
Bobby laid his left hand next to one of the gleaming yellow rings in the tray and studied the combination of metals for a long moment.  
  
"Me too. Okay. Gold it is. Miss? We'll take a matchin' pair in this style." Bobby requested of the young woman behind the counter.  
  
"A lovely choice. Will you want engraving?"  
  
Hobbes looked up at his partner, who nodded.  
  
"You go over there while I tell her though." Darien said, mischief sparking in his eyes.  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"I don't want you knowin' what I picked until the wedding."  
  
"Fawkes...."  
  
"Just go. It's gonna be a surprise. I'll do the same for you."  
  
"Geez... okay. But don't take all day. We told the boss we wouldn't be gone too long."  
  
Bobby stepped away, watching Darien lean in and put his head close to the ear of the counter girl. She looked thoughtful then whispered back. Her conspirator nodded, both smiled and Darien straightened up.  
  
"Okay, Hobbes. Your turn. Hey. Can I have a new name for you too?" he asked as they passed each other.  
  
"New name? What're you... oh. You mean the Ari thing. I guess... long as it's not weird or girly or somethin'."  
  
"Depends. I've been thinkin' about it.... would you mind Bert?"  
  
"Bert. That's okay. Kinda cool, actually. It'll do."  
  
"Good. I'm gonna wait outside."  
  
"Be right there. This won't take long."  
  
A few minutes later, Bobby stepped out of the store and touched Darien on the arm.  
  
"What's wrong? Bobby?"  
  
"Nothin'. I'm great. This is really gonna happen ain't it?"  
  
"In two weeks. Oh. Oh, yeah. Two weeks. God...."  
  
"Easy, babe." Bobby soothed, regretting passing on his sudden anxiety to his love and touching Darien's face to soothe him "It's got my guts in a knot too.... but I think that's a good thing. I love you.... I love you so much, Ari."  
  
"Every day, in every way, Bert." Darien responded, wrapping both hands around Bobby's face and drawing him in for a long, tender kiss. When they finally separated, a small group of people standing nearby provided them a smattering of discreet applause and at least one enthusiastic wolf- whistle. Bobby flushed and tried to escape into the truck, but Darien held him in place.  
  
"I said I'm not ashamed, baby. You don't have to be either."  
  
"Well... damn. What am I supposed to do?"  
  
"I don't know. Try taking a bow and saying thank you."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC...... 


	23. This I Promise You

A Wedding Song 23: This I Promise You...  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
ONE WEEK LATER: 6:30 A.M.  
  
Leaning against the side wall of a phone booth, Jared Stark ran a hand through hair that wasn't much cleaner than the streaked, smeared glass behind him and squeezed his eyes closed. Breathing deeply, knowing he couldn't allow his frustration to show, he sighed and made one last attempt at reasoning with his former associate and friend Bryce Hamilton, who had supplanted him as head of operations in California.  
  
"You don't understand.... I deserve a fair hearing. I had legitimate reasons for my actions, especially concerning Brandon..."  
  
"Oh, I'm afraid we do understand. It's you who's confused, Mister Stark. Due to your... *actions*, forty-six of our brightest prospects are now in enemy hands, your son is dead and the man who murdered him is not. You're a pariah, and you did it to yourself."  
  
"Brandon was already terminal, you know that. I couldn't watch him suffer anymore..."  
  
"Then you should have disposed of the boy yourself instead of contriving a plot to have him commit suicide and take forty-nine other children with him. You didn't have the stomach to solve the problem in the proper, discreet way. Now, you pay the price."  
  
"Every one of those children was on the elimination rosters. I was only speeding up the process they would have had to go through eventually...."  
  
"Without authorization and in a public forum that fueled your demented obsession with Darien Fawkes. How could you be such a fool? You had everything and you destroyed it all because you fixated on one man...."  
  
"Fawkes is not a man.... he's a cold-blooded, child murdering..."  
  
Breathing deeply, Stark took a moment to compose himself then he returned to his petition. "Look, Bryce, if you can get me in to see them, I can explain everything. I'll do anything if you can just convince them to give me five minutes to make my case....  
  
"Please, stop this, Jared." The other man replied in a thoroughly disgusted tone of voice. "It's over. You've blown your life to kingdom come with this stunt. You're in no position to bargain for anything, up to and including your miserable existence. When we find you, and you must know we will, you and your wife will be brought before the board, charged and summarily executed. *That* is what you deserve and it's what you'll receive."  
  
"Bryce, no. God, no, you can't hurt her. She had nothing to do with this. She thought he was just sick.... she didn't know anything...."  
  
"Of course she knew. How could she not? Her child grew from a year and a half to eight years of age in less than twenty-four months. She was your complicit accomplice and will be treated as such."  
  
"Please...."  
  
"Begging doesn't become you anymore than the fugitive lifestyle does, Jared. Our advice is to turn yourself in before we begin to actively hunt you down. Your pursuers will be under orders from the top echelon of Chrysalis and those orders don't include kindness, gentleness or mercy. They won't shoot on sight, but if you force the issue they will gleefully break your bones and dislocate your joints one by one until you give up..... Jared? Are you still there?"  
  
Stunned and furious, Jared Stark threw the receiver away from him, leaving it to swing wildly on the end of its cord as he turned and ran from the decrepit phone booth.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE AGENCY: LATER THAT MORNING  
  
"So there's still no sign of him?" Darien asked, his expression clearly showing his worry.  
  
"No. No sightings, no leads.... He has to be using pay phones exclusively. We could do some taps if we only knew where to start, but.... we don't even have the resources to do the job right."  
  
"You made any calls for help?"  
  
"I intended to call every federal agency in my Rolodex. I got two outright laughs and one suggestion as to where I should seek psychiatric treatment. After that I gave up." the Official replied sourly.  
  
"We need to find him, boss. As whacked as he is on the subject of Darien, he'll be comin' here sooner or later. Especially... I mean he knows who shot the kid by now. He must." Bobby added.  
  
Danny gazed at the two men beside him then turned his attention to the man behind the desk.  
  
"Umm... new agent on the block. Could somebody provide a little background..."  
  
"I'm sorry, Daniel. You should have been filled in earlier. Fawkes..."  
  
"No. I'm sorry, Danny. It's... it's still too close. I can't. Bobby, I'm gonna go see if Betsy's around.... work out some of those details, okay? You come find me when you're done here?"  
  
"Yeah, I will. Babe, don't.... you know. Please?"  
  
"Bobby, don't push me on this. I won't promise. It helps... sometimes." Darien told him sadly as he walked out of the office.  
  
"What was that about?" Danny asked.  
  
"That agent you replaced, the one I told you about? What sent her over the edge had a lot to do with him.... an' a mission that went south in the worst way. It's a long story. Why don't we go up to my office? It's gonna take a while, so we might as well be comfortable."  
  
"Okay. That's fine with me."  
  
"You'll let us know the second anything comes up, boss?""  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Good. Let's go, Danny."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
BETSY'S OFFICE: 1 HOUR LATER  
  
"Betsy? You here? I knocked..."  
  
Betsy popped her head out of a small room in the back of the office and smiled.  
  
"Be right out. Just trying to find a pen. I keep supplies back here.... somewhere. Go ahead and sit down."  
  
Darien claimed a chair.  
  
"Organization's not your thing, huh?"  
  
"I work for one. That means legally I don't have to *be* one. Pen, pen.... my cheap plastic desk set for a pen...." she muttered, her voice covered by rustlings and muted crashes as she continued her search. "Ah! Halleluiah! Le stylo est ici!" she shouted, holding the treasure aloft as she finally emerged from the closet. Betsy marched triumphantly back to where Darien waited, brushing dust bunnies off her clothes before she took her own seat. "Don't look at me like that. It's the only French I know and I never get to use it. I memorized it the first day of class. Then I feel asleep for the next sixteen weeks."  
  
"I found the pen?"  
  
"The pen is here. Same idea." she said, grinning. "So, I see one half of the dynamic duo. Where's the other?"  
  
"He'll be here as soon as he can. He's briefin' a new agent on some of the stuff he needs to know to be able to work with me an' Bobby."  
  
"Oh. Okay, we can work around him for a little while. Let's start with vows."  
  
"I brought mine. They're hand written an' they've been folded up in my pocket for a while..."  
  
"It's okay. I don't need to see them. I just wanted to know if the two of you were planning on using a pre-set form. Now I know, so..."  
  
"Wait. Pre-set form? Like to honor an' cherish an all that?"  
  
"That's one. There are at least a hundred others. I know. I went out and bought this book just for this job." She told him, placing a large paperback volume on the desk in his reach.  
  
"Oh Promise Me: Vow forms through history. Cool. Can I...."  
  
"Sure. Browse. I've already skimmed it and some of the modern sets are really wonderful."  
  
"Yeah, but we both already wrote ours. Well, I did. Bobby's are a work in progress."  
  
"No problem. Just take what you wanted to say and drop it into the form you like. Several of the ones in the book would work really well that way."  
  
"Hey. This one... the never and always. I kinda like that."  
  
"Here. Let me see. Hmmm. Yeah, me too. That was one that caught my eye. And it's fully adaptable. Each partner creates five promise statements that define their relationship, three of one or two sentences each and a final paragraph that includes the last two statements. One takes never and the other uses always. I agree, it's very cool. Is it something you could talk Bobby into, though?"  
  
"Oh yeah. He's trashed so many pieces of paper our place looks like a recycling center. He'll jump for joy."  
  
"Sounds as if we're set then, except for his approval, which we'll get when he shows up, hopefully. Let's move on to attendants."  
  
"You mean who's standin' up for me? Crap... I haven't thought about that.... I gotta ask somebody."  
  
"It's not required. If you don't think you'll want help we can forget it."  
  
"I won't just want it, I'll need it! I gotta have somebody beside me to hold me up an' drag me out to meet Bobby when the time comes... an' keep my tux clean when I get so nervous I puke. That's important."  
  
"What a picture...." Betsy said, laughing and grimacing at the same time. "So let's talk about your friends..."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
BOBBY'S OFFICE  
  
"My God.... most people seriously underestimate Agent Fawkes, don't they?"  
  
"By a mile an' a half. I gotta admit, I did too at first. Didn't take long for me to figure out the truth, though. He's smart an' strong... an' he's got a bigger heart than almost anybody I know."  
  
"Unfortunately, big hearts break easier than little ones do. They make better targets for the assholes of the world to shoot at."  
  
One eyebrow shot up at the mild swear word, but for the most part Bobby was glad the rookie was becoming more comfortable and relaxed around him.  
  
"If that ain't the truth, I don't know what is. You sound like you're talkin' from experience."  
  
"A little. Nothing like what you and Agent Fawkes have been through. I...."  
  
"Go on. What?"  
  
"That was an exceptional situation, right? Tell me you don't face suicidal, homicidal children every day. I... I've never been tested like that. I can't say for sure whether I'd pass."  
  
"None of us know if we can swim 'till we're in the water, Danny. Darien was scared outta his shorts all the time when he started. Now.... he's just about the best we've got here an' I trust him to cover my back anytime, anyplace. To answer the question, no, we don't do that every day. That... that was about the worst thing I've ever had to deal with outside a war zone. Ninety-nine percent a'the job is surveillance and takin' down grown up bad guys. The rest... well, Chrysalis is different. They take crazy to a whole new level, but we only jump into that shark pool maybe six or seven times a year."  
  
"Isn't that enough?" Danny chuckled.  
  
"Cut it down to no times a year an' I'd be a lot happier. So. Is there anything else you wanna know?"  
  
"Not really. I think I'm starting to understand the bond you two have. Powerful stuff."  
  
"Yeah it is. I gotta go meet Darien. We're supposed to be talkin with our JP right now. Meet you back here tomorrow mornin' before briefin' time? We'll have coffee, talk a little more.... Maybe Darien'll tell you some of the stuff that isn't mine to say, ya know? Oh yeah, an' I wanna show you somethin' before we split up for the day. Just so you don't get the wrong idea."  
  
The two men left the office and made their way down to the basement level where Bobby led Danny to Alex's cell. "I didn't want you comin' across this an' wonderin' why she's in there."  
  
"This is the agent I replaced... the one who abducted your daughter and hurt Doctor Westerfield." Danny intuited.  
  
"Good instincts, kid. There's only one rule with Alex, here: don't ever go in there with her. If she tries to talk to you, call for backup. If she's gettin' really outta control, call for backup. If she looks like she's dead...."  
  
".... call for backup. I get it. What does Darien think?"  
  
"He wants her to be okay so he can be okay, but he's gettin there on his own."  
  
"I've never seen pain stamped that deeply into someone's face. I can't imagine what she must be dealing with..."  
  
"We all hurt. Alex took a long, hot bath in hers. She let it burn her up 'till there was nothin' left that could stand to live in the world. She did this to herself."  
  
"Excuse me? Her child died. That wasn't her fault. Has anyone bothered to try and help her or are you all just treating her like a live horror movie you don't have to pay eight bucks to see? Maybe what she *needs* is for someone to take the risk of going in there and reaching out to her...."  
  
"Reach out to her an' you'll lose your hand."  
  
"All I'm saying is she's not so much crazy as she is damaged."  
  
"Put it this way, Danny. Which would you rather face down in a cage the size of this one; a healthy wolf, or one that's wounded an' foamin' at the mouth?"  
  
Danny paled slightly, letting Bobby know he'd gotten his point across. "You don't have the key or the code to open the cell, so you couldn't get in anyway. I just wanted to let you know about the monster under our bed so you don't get your toes bit off..."  
  
"Not the most flattering way to talk about a fellow human being."  
  
"The day she laid a hand on my child she stopped bein' human to me. See you tomorrow, Danny."  
  
Grim faced, the taller man watched Bobby stride away and get back on the elevator. After a long moment of deep thought, Danny turned to the window of the cell, moved closer and stared in at the lone occupant. Though her eyes eventually found his, she made no move to approach him. For the better part of an hour, they remained locked in a silent contemplation, the observer wondering why he couldn't look away, the prisoner speculating on who the beautiful stranger was and how he might be enticed into helping her fulfill her plans for Darien Fawkes.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBC.... 


	24. I Will Survive

A Wedding Song 24 : I Will Survive  
  
The lyrics at the end of the first scene aren't mine, obviously. I wish they were. They're some of the most beautiful love song lyrics I think I've ever come across. (Ice Castles was an excellent movie too!)  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
FOLLOWING WED. -- 7:00 A.M. : BOBBY'S OFFICE  
  
"We didn't talk about gettin' presents for each other, Fawkes. I didn't...."  
  
"Yeah you did, but we'll get to that later. Just open it, okay?"  
  
Shaking slightly, Bobby approached the large, flat package leaning against the back of his couch. By it's shape and size, he'd already decided it was a painting, but it was the unknown subject of the piece that was making him nervous. Having seen several examples of Darien's artistic ability, both light and dark, Bobby could only wonder which this would be and try to prepare an appropriate reaction for both. Slowly, he used a thumbnail to slit the paper near the top then he pulled the brown wrapping straight down. What was revealed made him step back suddenly, frantically sorting out his emotions. All thoughts he'd been gathering fled and took his breath with them.  
  
"Ari.... God, it's.... I don't know what to.... that's not me...."  
  
"It's Bobby Hobbes through my eyes. This is how I see you."  
  
Still recovering his composure, Bobby stared at the canvas before him, drinking it in whole, then picking out different aspects to focus on. The background of the painting was a deep, rich gray, but the piece itself was not dark or maudlin in tone. Instead, it seemed to explode with color and life. His gaze flicked from one image of himself to another; here he clasped Bobbi to his chest, a beatific smile on his face, and here he sat on their couch at home, head drooping back in exhaustion and eyes heavy lidded.  
  
"But....all the drawin's you had to make... when did you..... "  
  
"Too many times to count. You remember what we were doing that Thursday morning?"  
  
"The one before Hell An' Back Friday you mean? Playin' hurry up an' wait mostly. I was tryin' to get my vows down on paper. You were.... damn. You were sketchin' an' you wouldn't let me see."  
  
"That's this one." Darien replied, singling out one of the myriad images by pointing to it. "When you know the words are in you, but you can't make 'em come out, you get this look on your face. The frustration, anger, worry.... It makes me sad an' I always wish I could help.... but I know it'll just make it worse if I butt in, so I've learned to let you work it out on your own. You usually find a way."  
  
"The tapes.... all the songs I picked for you while you were pregnant. I was never sure if you got why I was doin' it that way instead a'just... talkin'."  
  
"I knew. Those tapes... they're your version of love letters. I thought about tyin' 'em together with pink ribbon or pressin' some flowers in between the cases, but..."  
  
"Too much. Yeah, I agree. Glad you got your head on straight, there pal." Bobby chuckled softly while skimming his gaze over the rest of the painting. He stopped on one particular part and reached out to touch it with one finger. "This... the one of me an' Bobbi. Why'd you put white around just that one?"  
  
"White's supposed to mean pure, right? When you put her on your shoulder like that, walkin' around tryin' to get her back to sleep.... that's what I see in your face. Pure love, pure joy, pure peace.... it's almost like there's this light around the both of you. I tried to paint it the way I see it, but.... it was never quite right. I almost got it perfect. Almost...."  
  
Gazing back, Bobby pinned Darien with his most serious expression, flames dancing in his eyes.  
  
"You change one brush stroke an' you'll never see ice cream again, you understand?"  
  
"Yeah, but..."  
  
Bobby now turned fully around to face his husband to be.  
  
"Not a scoop, not a spoonful. Not even a snow-cone is gonna touch your lips from now until the day you croak. I can make it happen."  
  
Darien laughed and pulled Bobby to him, hugging him fiercely.  
  
"Okay, okay. I get it. I'm just being an artist, Bobby. My high school art teacher said that pretty much every creative person has a ' can't leave good enough alone' streak. They finish something, look at it an' decide that if only one tiny thing were different it'd be perfect. They fix that, but then they see something else that could be tweaked an' pretty soon whatever it was ends up trashed. Artists, writers... we have to learn to kick butt on the perfectionist part of ourselves, that's all. I won't change your painting, I promise."  
  
"Damn right. I like it how it is." Bobby responded, half turning to examine his present again. "It's so incredible, Ari. You musta been workin' on this for months."  
  
"The painting took about a week. The sketches...."  
  
Darien turned away and walked to the corner, opening the small cabinet Bobby had given him to store his things. Digging, he produced a drawing pad, brought it back to where Hobbes waited and handed it to him. "Here. Go ahead an' look."  
  
"These... they're all me or Bobbi. How long..."  
  
"About a year. There's some of Claire in there too, but, yeah, mostly... it's family."  
  
"Family.... The weddin's in three days. We ain't taken care a'your half of our little deal yet."  
  
"I know. I've been tryin' not to think about it."  
  
"You need to finish it with Kev, babe. Like Claire says, we shouldn't bring any old crap into our new life."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that deal anymore. If I go see him, I'm gonna end up losin' my temper, I know it."  
  
"That's okay. I did it with Viv."  
  
"Yeah, but Kevin can't yell back. How fair is it for me to get pissed an' scream my throat raw at somebody who's not around to defend himself?"  
  
"Don't matter if it's fair or not. Goin' back to the cemetery.... it ain't about Kev. It's about you."  
  
"Bobby..."  
  
"It's time. You know it is."  
  
Eventually, Darien nodded.  
  
"After I get done with Cheryl today.... I need to talk some of this through with her."  
  
"That'll work."  
  
"Bring Bobbi when you come pick me up, okay? Even if she can't met him face to face... she should know she had an uncle."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Hey, can I ask a huge favor?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Can I borrow your present to add to the three I'm bringin' to my session today? I really think Cheryl'd like to see it. She asked me a couple weeks ago what my perspective on you and our relationship was. It didn't come out too well in words. If she sees this.... she'll get it."  
  
"I guess. You did change your mind about showin' her the Milky Way of Death picture, right? Tell me you did."  
  
"She wants to see samples of my work, Bobby. I'm not gonna hide anything from her. So it's dark. I'm way past that now."  
  
"Yeah, but you were paintin' that way 'cause a'me. She's gonna ask..."  
  
"Probably. I won't tell her if you don't want me to."  
  
Bobby thought hard for a few minutes before he responded.  
  
"Tell her. It's proof that we can be get through anything and hold together. Even my stupidity."  
  
"Bert...."  
  
"I know, I know. I'm gettin' better. I don't talk myself down half as much as I used to."  
  
"Yeah, well, the next time you get the urge, think about your painting. See yourself the way I see you. "  
  
"I try.... you're the only one...."  
  
Bobby struggled for a moment, then gave up, his face taking on the look that Darien was so familiar with; the one that said he desperately wanted to express himself, but did not yet understand how to turn his yearning into reality. Moving away for a moment, Darien walked to the desk and returned with his ever-present Walkman. After using the head-set to cue up the tape to the right song, He transferred the headphones from his ears to Bobby's. The other man promptly pulled them off, but Darien held his fiancée's face in his hands and spoke quietly to him.  
  
"When I say I love you, you believe me. When I say you saved my life and gave me back my soul, you believe me, Why can't you believe it when I tell you you're beautiful and good and strong?"  
  
"Ari, don't.... c'mon...."  
  
"No. You showed me that sometimes music can do what words can't. You look at the painting I made for you.... and you listen. Listen and believe...."  
  
Turning Bobby around, Darien resettled the earphones and hit the play button.  
  
### Please, don't let this feeling end.  
It's everything I am, everything I want to be.  
Reaching out to touch you, I can feel so much,  
Since I found you, looking through the eyes of love.  
  
Now, I can take the time,  
I can see my life as it comes up shining now.  
Reaching out to touch you, I can feel so much,  
Since I found you, looking through the eyes of love.  
  
And now, I do believe that even in the storm we'll find some light.  
Knowing you're beside me, I'm alright....###  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Darien.... these are magnificent. You're very talented." Cheryl said as she looked at the paintings one by one. After spending several minutes on each of the first three, she came to one of several he'd produced while working through Bobby's temporary abandonment. Gazing intently at the canvas, she moved closer to read the tiny words he'd incorporated into the dark spiral. Pulling back, she turned to Darien, her expression curious and a bit sad.  
  
"Death, betrayal, fury.... intense. Very different from the rest. Where did this one come from?"  
  
"A really, really bad mood."  
  
"More."  
  
"Bobby. He hurt me... broke my heart. He'd known for a while that he was gonna have a kid, but he wouldn't let it sink in, I guess. Then he heard Bobbi Claire's heartbeat in an ultrasound session.... it got too real too fast, he says. Right around the same time he was figurin' out he was in love with me. The combo kinda... blew his circuits and he ran away for two weeks. I was so mad an' depressed.... I thought he was sayin' he didn't want me. And just the thought that he could leave town with his baby on the way.... it made it worse. That wasn't the guy I thought I knew. This came from how I was feelin' at the time. This an' a few more like it." He explained, waving vaguely at the painting, but not looking at it for more than a few seconds at a time.  
  
"It bothers you to remember."  
  
"A little. I'm usually a pretty happy person. Over those two weeks, I went to some nasty places inside me... places I didn't know existed."  
  
"If there were no darkness, we wouldn't recognize light."  
  
"And vice versa."  
  
"Very good." Cheryl acknowledged, moving back to examine the multi-image painting of Bobby. "It seems you've moved well beyond.... what shall we call it, your black period?"  
  
"Definitely. This one is the first I've done in a few weeks, though. The kids... you know. I took some time off. So, does this answer your question about my perspective better than I did?"  
  
"You answered the question just fine, but the painting does add something to the equation. You show amazing insight into all the layers he claims he doesn't have. What did Bobby say when he saw it?"  
  
"Not much. When he could talk again one of the first things he said was ' That's not me. ' I told him it was him alright, just from my point of view. We never see ourselves the way everyone else does. It's impossible."  
  
"More insight. Wow. Speaking of having layers...."  
  
Darien laughed and turned away.  
  
"Sometimes. Other times I'm about as deep as a thin crust pizza. Look.... I need to talk to you about something I'm plannin' for after we get done today." He requested, dropping into his favorite chair.  
  
"Sounds serious. Go on."  
  
"Did Bobby tell you about the blow out he had with Viv?"  
  
"In graphic detail. I'm glad it finally happened, actually. He's been hoarding anger and fear about their break-up for a long time. It did him a lot of good to let go of that."  
  
"I know. We talked about it some... before the fireworks. I tried to tell him he needed to at least call her and tell her about us... about the wedding. He said he would if I'd be close by for support. Then she just showed up.... you know the rest."  
  
"I do. Now tell me the part I haven't heard"  
  
"When we were talkin' about him callin' her, we sorta... made a deal. He wouldn't even think about gettin' in touch with his ex unless I agreed to go back an' see my brother."  
  
"How long has it been?"  
  
"Eighteen months. A little more maybe."  
  
"And? Let's hear some reasons."  
  
"Not so long ago I didn't have any. Now... I understand stuff better. I understand myself better. I haven't gone back to the cemetery 'cause I was so mad I was afraid of what might happen. I wasn't sure I could stay in control."  
  
"Okay. You're angry. Perfectly normal. Angry about what?"  
  
"He's supposed to be here. With all the crap I've gone through I needed my brother. Bobbi needs her Uncle Kevin. He's supposed to be at my wedding.... he had no right to die. He's the one who got me into this government gig in the first place. Then he just.... I mean, I was scared outta my mind and I had nobody to talk to... nobody to answer my questions...."  
  
"You must have felt very alone."  
  
"Completely. I hated it..... hated him."  
  
"Have you ever told him that?"  
  
"Kinda. The last time I went to see him I.... I yelled a little, but it was about him not to him. I ragged on Kev to the people that were with me. They kept me from losin' it. Trust me, it coulda been a serious mess.... I'm really lucky they were there."  
  
"Would that have been such a terrible thing? If you had lost it, I mean."  
  
"In the cemetery, in broad daylight? Well... yeah. Normal people aren't supposed to kick an' scream an' say bad words in public. The cops don't like it. It leads to handcuffs and little cement cells.... stuff I'm not too eager to get into again."  
  
"I don't know. Melt down in front of Starbucks, you might have a problem, but at your brother's grave, it's a different story."  
  
"Not four years after he died it isn't."  
  
"Darien....give yourself a break. You've got a lot of justified rage and confusion bottled up. Taking the lid off carefully might succeed in releasing the pressure, but it won't feel half as good as just popping your cork and finally telling Kevin how you really feel."  
  
"I've never been able to do that.... just yell at him. Even when he was bein' a complete ass. He was my big brother. He looked out for me, he took care of me.... it didn't feel right."  
  
"You're not that little boy anymore, Darien. You're an adult with a family of your own and adults are allowed to get mad at each other. They're even allowed to swear. I assume you do know how to do that?"  
  
The witticism caught Darien off guard and he laughed.  
  
"I was in prison. I know words.... let's just say I can get creative when I have to. Seriously, though.... if I tell him what's in my heart an' let myself be angry at him... will that be all I ever feel when I think about Kev?"  
  
"You said you were deeply angry with Bobby when he left. Your painting shows that very clearly, but in three days you're going to marry him."  
  
"I hate it when you do the answer-your-own-question thing."  
  
"I know. Do it anyway."  
  
"Bobby... it's different. Kev was my brother...."  
  
"You got mad, you forgave, you went on loving Bobby. Are you saying you can't do the same for Kevin?"  
  
Darien stared at Cheryl in wonder.  
  
"You did it again."  
  
"Did what?"  
  
"Put my head where it needed to be without me knowin' how it got there."  
  
"It's rare, but once in a great while the destination is more important than the journey."  
  
"Come again?'  
  
"Translation: If you knew how the magic worked you wouldn't need the magician."  
  
"Isn't that sorta the point? To get to a place where I don't need you?"  
  
"Yes, but you're not quite there yet. Almost, but not quite."  
  
"When?"  
  
"When you figure out how the magic is done and you can do it for yourself. Whoops. Time's up."  
  
Sighing, Darien stood and began to collect the paintings.  
  
"You're sure you can't come to the wedding?"  
  
"Very sure. I'd love to be there, but the weekend is the only real time I have with my kids. I promised them a whole Saturday in the park with my full attention."  
  
"Yeah. I get that. Well, you'll get all the details next session. I'll save a piece of cake for you."  
  
"That would be great. Thank you for sharing your art with me."  
  
"No problem. Like you said before, I gotta learn to take the big risks.... to trust that I'm not always gonna fall."  
  
Once Darien had slipped on his jacket, Cheryl touched his shoulder gently, leaned in and dropped a swift, light kiss on his cheek.  
  
"Congratulations. I hope Saturday turns out exactly the way you want it to. Take lots of pictures."  
  
"I'll be lucky if I can tear Bobbi's Godfather away from his digital camera long enough to do anything else. See you Monday."  
  
"Yes. Give Bobby my best wishes and tell him he's off the hook for Friday, but just this once."  
  
"He'll be jumpin' for joy. We've still got a ton of stuff to do between now and Saturday. Bye."  
  
"Good-bye, Darien."  
  
As he left the office, Cheryl smiled and watched him for a moment then turned back to make notes on the session, thinking that, depending on how he handled the cemetery, perhaps he was closer to ending his therapy than either of them had realized.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
30 MINUTES LATER:  
  
"You look lousy. I can't tell if you're gonna pass out or you're gettin' ready to kick somebody's ass. Claire woulda come too, if you'd asked. She knows how hard this is gonna be on you."  
  
"No, Bobby. You, me an' our child.... that's what this is about. Let's go. If I don't do this now...."  
  
Hobbes squeezed Darien's hand tightly, trying to convey the extent of his love and support with that simple gesture. After a moment he got out, moved around the SUV and released a sleepy Bobbi Claire from her car-seat. Standing a few feet away, Darien stared into the distance, putting his thoughts in order and struggling with whether or not to take Cheryl's advice.  
  
"We're all set. You ready?"  
  
"No. I don't think I could ever be ready to do this."  
  
"Then what'd I wake the kid up from her nap for?"  
  
"Ready, not ready.... it doesn't matter. I've waited too long. I need to close this door an' I need to do it now before I talk myself out of it."  
  
"Okay. I got your back. You know that."  
  
" 'Course I know it." Darien replied softly as he started forward, leading the way to Kevin's gravesite. Bobby followed, the baby cradled against his left side and swiveling her head in both directions to take in everything there was to see. When they reached the grave, Darien reached out one hand, brushing his fingers over the stone in a silent greeting, and swallowed hard before attempting to put his thoughts into words.  
  
"Hey, bro. It's been a long... long time. I'm really sorry. No excuse, I know that. I was so damn mad... I used it as an reason to stop comin'. Well, that an' I was busy havin' a baby. Your kinky little QS gland did it to me again, man. I'll fill in the gaps in the story next time. For now.... I got stuff I need to say. You... you knew what losin' mom did to me. You said if I took your get outta jail free card, you'd be with me.... if it got nasty or if it hurt too much, you said you'd be there. You lied, you bastard. Why did you lie to me?"  
  
Ignoring the tears that were now running freely over his cheeks, Darien clenched his hands into tight fists and hung his head, fighting to stay in control, but knowing it was a lost cause. "You were always so damn careful about everything. I... I used to rag on you about it.... so when the hell did you stop? Huh? If you'd been careful.... Arnaud never coulda snuck in under your radar. You got sloppy... he killed you.... and I had nobody. There were times when I thought.... God, please show me how to get outta this place so I can get some pills... or a razor blade.... those were the good days. Most of the time I couldn't think at all. All I could do was curl up in a ball and shake 'till I passed out. I don't know who I hated more, you or me. You talked me into puttin' myself in that hell. I wanted outta prison so bad I woulda said yes to anything an' you knew that. You knew it an' you used it against me. I can't put it all on you, though.... a big chunk, but not all. I ignored what my gut was tellin' me that day.... an' I never did that before. Somethin' wasn't right. I knew it.... an' I said yes anyway."  
  
Reacting to the waves of anger and sorrow he sensed flowing off his partner, Bobby stepped forward, intent on doing whatever he could to help, but Darien held up a hand and spoke quietly. "Not yet, Bobby, okay? Lemme finish this... please. I need you to hold me.... just not yet."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Darien drew a deep, shuddering breath, tucked his chin into his chest and forced himself to continue.  
  
"I thought.... I thought I'd come back here an' tear the place apart. I was that mad at both of us. But I just now realized....I came back here to tell you that I'm okay. I'm still furious, but it's 'cause you can't see how beautiful your niece is... or meet the guy I love more than my own life. You woulda loved Bobby too.... Damn it, Kev! As mad as I am that you're not here to see the freaking miracle my life has turned into... I can forgive you for leavin' me alone.... 'cause I'm not alone anymore. You tell mom that for me... tell her I'm not alone.... and I'm okay...."  
  
Turning, Darien managed a stumbling step or two before he ran into Bobby, who slipped his free arm around his fiancée and held him as tightly as he could.  
  
"You did good baby. You did good... it's all done."  
  
"I miss 'em both so damn much.... God... it still hurts like it they died yesterday...."  
  
"I know. I know, kid.... but it'll start gettin' better now... I promise...."  
  
Eventually, Darien straightened and swiped at his face with a tissue Bobby dug out of his jacket pocket.  
  
"Ugh. Guess I returned the wet shirt favor. Sorry."  
  
"Forget it. You ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah. I really am."  
  
Handing Bobbi up to her mother, Hobbes interlaced the fingers of his left hand with Darien's right and the trio walked slowly back to the truck, climbed in and headed home.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Enough angst, on with the wedding!" you cry. I hear and I obey. Final two chaps coming up, so keep your shirt on constant reader....  
  
TBC..... 


	25. Grow Old Along With Me

A Wedding Song 25: Finale --- Grow Old Along With Me - Part 1  
  
Song Lyrics belong to Tom Petty  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THE DAY BEFORE THE CEREMONY: THE KEEP  
  
"You managed to find one small enough?"  
  
"Easily. I had just the thing in my desk. I simply had to do a bit of excavating to find it. Before Roberta came along, my desk was the epitome of order. Now her pictures and her things seem to be everywhere."  
  
"And you wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
Smiling, Eberts glanced down and stretched out a hand to tickle Bobbi under the chin. She giggled and, as usual, his heart became play-doh.  
  
"No, I wouldn't."  
  
"Did you..."  
  
"I tested the recorder and it works both perfectly and quietly."  
  
"Marvelous. I have mine as well. Did you have enough tapes to go with it? I can lend you one or two..."  
  
"Not necessary. I have an adequate supply. This was a marvelous idea, Claire. The boys will be ecstatic."  
  
"I hope so. No qualms about the deception?"  
  
"No more than I'd have about hiding in a darkened room waiting for a surprise party."  
  
"Good. Oh, I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow. Can you believe it's finally here? They're finally getting the happiness they both deserve. Seems as if it's taken a thousand years."  
  
"It does, at that. Admittedly, no relationship is trouble free, but theirs has seen far more than its share. Robert and Darien have earned a bit of peace."  
  
"Here's to peace, however long it lasts." Claire laughed, lifting her soda in a toast.  
  
"May that be forever." Eberts replied, gently clinking his coffee cup against her can.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Danny, man.... that's so generous, but you don't have to."  
  
"I want to, okay? Think of it as a thank you for the way you just accepted me into the team. You had every right to see me as the enemy, but you chose to trust me. Now it's my turn to give a little back."  
  
"But... three days on your own? If anything happened...."  
  
"I'm not exactly marooned. There are twelve other agents here. If a case comes up that I'm not sure about I'll go to one of them for backup."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Positive. Get going, both of you. You've got a busy day ahead if you plan on having everything ready for tomorrow."  
  
"Wow. Hey, thanks Danny. We'll see you when we get back."  
  
"I expect a full report on everything but the wedding night." Masters laughed as Bobby dragged his fiancée down the hall, already reciting an itinerary of the places they had to stop.  
  
"Will do!" Darien tossed back over his shoulder.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"They called and said they were ready. They're not gonna lie." Bobby reassured Darien as they stood at the jewelry store counter and waited for their rings.  
  
"I know. I'm just... tense, I guess. The cake was perfect, the food was just what we ordered.... Everything's goin' too good."  
  
"No, baby. Everything's goin' like it's supposed to for once."  
  
Smiling softly, Bobby reached up and stroked a hand down Darien's face. "The universe has put us through hell, high water an' every other disaster it could come up with, an' we're still here. That counts for somethin'."  
  
"Maybe. It's just... I'm never doin' this again. You're it for me. I only get one shot to make it perfect..."  
  
"Ari, it'd be perfect if it was just us an' Betsy out in the woods with nothin' but squirrels an' chipmunks for an audience. The cake an' the food, the decorations.... they're great, but they ain't the point. The point is you an' me sayin' the vows we wrote, slippin' the rings on an' gettin' on with our lives."  
  
"You an' Bobbi Claire... you're my life. You always will be...."  
  
Darien was just about to surrender to the urge to kiss Bobby until he begged for mercy when the sales associate returned with the ring boxes. Hobbes caught himself reaching out to open them and pulled back.  
  
"I hope they're what we wanted. We'll know tomorrow I guess." Bobby said, pulling out his check book. "How much was the first payment again?"  
  
"You won't need that. The rings have been paid for in full."  
  
"What? By who?" Darien asked.  
  
"The gentleman wished to remain anonymous, sir. I'm afraid I don't know."  
  
"I don't like this, Fawkes."  
  
"It's okay. I might have an idea who it was. Let's get going, huh?"  
  
"Wait a minute...."  
  
"Hobbes, we've still got our tuxes, the decorations and a baby to pick up, an' if we don't get a move on it'll be midnight before we get home."  
  
"Yeah, okay. But I'm lookin' into this later."  
  
"If I'm right, you won't have to. By the way... why did you decide to call me that?" Darien inquired as they climbed into the truck.  
  
"What, Ari?"  
  
"Yeah, Ari. So? Why?"  
  
"I don't know. It just kept... comin' out. I sorta like the idea of havin' a name for you that's mine... somethin' nobody else calls you. I'll stop if it bugs you...."  
  
"No, I like it. I just wondered. Ari. Sounds kinda.... cool an' hip, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yeah." {Cool, hip... an' mine. Just like Bert makes me yours. I hope you're ready for this, bud, 'cause after tomorrow you're never gettin rid a'me....}  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
THAT EVENING: THE APARTMENT  
  
"Do what? Spend the night where? Why didn't you say anything about this before?"  
  
"I knew you'd freak out, that's why. " Bobby responded as he finished packing his over-night bag. "I'm stayin' in Claire's guest room. It's her idea, not mine. Somethin' about it bein' tradition for us to be apart the night before the ceremony."  
  
"Yeah, well, to paraphrase Star Wars, if there's a center of tradition in the universe, you and I live on the planet farthest from it."  
  
"You see me arguin'? I think it's stupid, but she insisted. I didn't wanna get her mad at me, so I caved."  
  
"I guess.... The last thing we want in this house tomorrow is Claire ripped at one or both of us. You don't have to go right now, do you?"  
  
"Nah... I told her I'd be there by eight. It's only.... a little past six now. Why?"  
  
"Can we...."  
  
Faltering, Darien gestured toward the living room with his head.  
  
"Oh. One a'those talks. Absolutely. I got all the time you need."  
  
Once they were settled on the couch, Darien in the speaker's position this time, Bobby wrapped an arm around his partner and spoke to open the session. "Go on and talk. You're safe, I won't let you go."  
  
"Wow. This is... really, really awkward. I needed to ask you.... We need to plan... I don't mean plan, I mean work out...."  
  
Finally, Darien stopped, drew and released a deep breath and tried again. "We haven't talked about... tomorrow night."  
  
"Sure we did. You helped me plan the party, decide the menu, pick the cake..."  
  
"That's not it. I meant.... after. When Betsy, Claire an' Eberts are ready to go home, should we ask one of 'em to... take Bobbi for the night?"  
  
"Why would we do that? You didn't say anything about us goin' outta town. We got an assignment you ain't told me about yet?"  
  
"Bobby... I love you, six-inch thick skull and all." Darien laughed softly, "What I'm trying way too hard to get at is.... I know it's not an actual wedding we're puttin' on, but is there.... do you wanna have any kinda... wedding night?"  
  
"Oh. Oh!" Bobby gasped, finally waking up as Darien's point sank in. "Wow... I mean.... wow. I thought we decided.... neither one of us...."  
  
"Hobbes. Stop an' clear your head a minute. Think back to that morning. What was it... a month ago now? Think about that first kiss. I remember... I tried to make it fast, somethin' we could both forget in two seconds if we needed to. You didn't wanna let it go at that an' when I saw you didn't.... I didn't either. That kiss was sweet an' passionate an' beautiful. It's a memory I'll keep for the rest of my life. Anything we decided before that mornin'.... I think it's pretty much gone to hell in a hand-basket an' it's not comin' back."  
  
"Which leaves us... where?"  
  
"My opinion? We're back at square one, free to decide what we want an' what's right for us. C'mon, Bobby. Talk to me about that morning.... about the kiss. Tell me you felt nothing, that you never wanted it an' I swear I'll never bring this up again."  
  
"Not want it? I never wanted it to end! God, how could you think.... When you touched my lip, then my head.... my brain kinda went south for the winter. All I knew was I wanted you to do it again. I got a little scared, yeah. Scared of myself, scared of what could happen if I crossed the line.... or at least pushed it like my body was beggin' me to. The scare woke me up. Then I felt you pullin' back a little.... so I let it go."  
  
Bobby's words caused a sudden revelation in Darien. In a flash he understood why Bobby had restrained himself so fiercely that morning and why he might continue to hold back in the future if they didn't resolve the issue.  
  
"Bobby... so that's it. I think I get it now, but you gotta tell me if I'm right. Deal?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
"I can't believe it took this long to hit me. You think if we ever did try to.... if we ever made love again that I'd end up scarred.... just like last time. You're worried about hurtin' me. Right or wrong?"  
  
Bobby hesitated, but he eventually gave an honest answer.  
  
"Right."  
  
"Okay. My turn to tell secrets I guess. That beer amnesia from that night? It didn't last. I've pretty much remembered everything about what happened."  
  
"How long?"  
  
"A few months. I kept my mouth shut to avoid upsettin' you an' me both. At that point we were still duckin' the subject every time it came anywhere close to comin' up."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"The bottom line is... it wasn't you who did the damage. Not really. We were both consenting.... happily consenting. Between the alcohol an' the.... stimulation I didn't have a working brain cell left in my head to put towards thinkin' about protection.... or lubrication. Neither one of us did. That's why I got torn up. At least I'm pretty sure that was it. You weren't a crazed maniac an' you didn't force yourself on me. We both wanted to do what we did. If we hadn't been sloshed...."  
  
"If we hadn't been sloshed, no Bobbi Claire."  
  
"Huh... yeah. I guess things happen for a reason."  
  
"So... you trust the memories? You really believe I didn't hurt you 'cause I was just outta control?"  
  
"I trust the memories and, yes, that's what I believe."  
  
"An' what if I'm not ready for a banana split yet? What if I just want a... a little dish a'ice cream?"  
  
"I'm not ready for everything all at once either, Bobby. All I was askin' was... did you want anything to happen at all tomorrow night? It doesn't have to. Like I said, square one, free to choose what's right for us... for where we are right now. Even if it's only kisses, even if it's nothing that's okay with me."  
  
"It is, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, as long as any kissin' we do is as good as the first one."  
  
"It wasn't too shabby at that. Could be hard to match."  
  
"Not too shabby? Bobby, that was the most intense, powerful kiss I've ever been a part of. There were so many sparks flyin', I'm surprised we didn't set the curtains on fire!"  
  
"So is that what you wanna plan on? We can just try another kiss tomorrow night... see where it takes us."  
  
"I'd love that, but I'm not the only one involved here."  
  
"Hey, that first kiss was as hot for me as it was for you. Yeah. I can get behind tryin' it again. Just make me one promise?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"At the party we drink water, juice or soda."  
  
"Absolutely." Darien laughed. "Which brings up an interesting point. I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since I found out I was pregnant."  
  
"Not even after she was born?"  
  
"No. You?"  
  
"A beer once in a while. Few an' far between though. Weird. Crap." Bobby exclaimed as he glanced at his watch.  
  
"What? Time to go?"  
  
"No way, babe. It's fine. Whatever you need, remember? We stay right here until you're ready to get up."  
  
"I don't wanna make you late to Claire's...."  
  
"Bobby Hobbes don't have to do anything except what he wants to do. You ready to move?"  
  
"I will be. A few more minutes?"  
  
"I'm good." Bobby replied, grinning as Darien wriggled a little and sank deeper into his embrace.  
  
"Bobby?"  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
"What if where it takes us... is into dangerous territory?"  
  
"Long as we're not partyin' with the Clydesdales, we oughta have enough sense to know when to back off." He reminded his partner, adding his other arm to make the hug complete.  
  
"Right. No horses."  
  
Both men were silent for a while, each lost in his own thoughts; thoughts that followed very similar paths.  
  
{Kissin' him... I don't need anything else to get high. What if....}  
  
{Man... all I have to do is look at his mouth an' I'll be gone. What if...}  
  
{{what if I don't wanna stop?}}  
  
"Ari?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I left a tape... a special one in your walkman. Don't listen to it 'till I go, okay?"  
  
"Okay. I promise. You have to leave soon."  
  
"Damn. You're right. You ready?"  
  
"No, but I can deal." Darien replied, sitting up reluctantly. Bobby followed suit a moment later. Darien kept his promise, but just barely. The moment the door closed, he leapt up and raced to grab the tape player. He recognized Tom Petty's ' The Waiting ' within the first few notes and he wondered, not for the first time, whether it was possible to get close enough to someone that reading each other's thoughts became so routine you didn't know you were doing it. As the song played, echoing his exact feelings over the past twenty-four hours, he decided it was more than possible.  
  
### Oh, baby don't it feel like heaven right now? Don't it feel like somethin' from a dream? Yeah, I've never known nothin' quite like this. Don't it feel like tonight might never be again, Baby, we'd know better than to try an' pretend. Honey, noone could've ever told me 'bout this. Said, yeah yeah (yeah yeah,) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...  
  
The waiting is the hardest part. Every day see one more card. You take it on faith, you take it to the heart The waiting is the hardest part.  
  
Well, yeah, I mighta chased a couple women around. All it ever got me was down. Yeah, then there were those that made me feel good, but never as good as I feel right now. Baby you're the only one that's ever known how to make me wanna live like I wanna live now  
  
The waiting is the hardest part Every day get one more yard You take it on faith, you take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part.  
  
Don't let it get you babe, don't let it get to you. Don't let it get you babe, don't let it get to you. I'll be your bleedin' heart, I'll be your cryin' fool, Don't let this go too far, don't let it get to you  
  
Yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah....  
  
The waiting is the hardest part Every day get one more yard. You take it on faith, you take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part.  
  
Yeah, the waiting is the hardest part ###  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
LATE THAT NIGHT: CLAIRE'S  
  
"Claire?"  
  
"No, it's Pavlov."  
  
"Arf."  
  
"I had a feeling you might be restless, so I came in to see if there was anything I could do to help."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"And whyever not?"  
  
"You're not Darien. It's a... him an' me thing."  
  
"Yeah? Tell me about it." she encouraged, pulling Bobby's old chair close to the bed and dropping into it, slipping the mini-recorder out of her pocket at the same time. She deliberately held the device low so he wouldn't catch even a glimpse of it, but also did her best to point the mike in the right direction  
  
"I don't know if I can. I guess.... Bobbi's almost seven months old now, so that means Fawkes an' I have been sleepin' in the same bed for about... fourteen months. After all this time.... we have this sense about each other. I know when he's around, he knows when I'm around.... we both know when the other one ain't. If he's not close to me, I don't sleep."  
  
"Do you think he's home doing this with Eberts?"  
  
"Probably."  
  
"Tell me why you said yes when he asked you to marry him."  
  
"What's with all these questions?"  
  
"I'm trying to bore you to sleep with the sound of your own voice?"  
  
"Funny. Again with the comedy..."  
  
"Answer the question. What made you say yes? How do you know this is the right thing to do?"  
  
"There're a lotta reasons. It's hard to pick one...."  
  
Bobby was silent for almost a minute before he spoke again. "Okay... you won't get this. I'm not sure anybody else ever could. It's his eyes. It's like... every dream I quit on or quit carin' about.... an' every single thing I ever *really* wanted but made myself shove in the flyin' oinkers file.... I look in his eyes an' I can see he's holdin' all that stuff for me.... an' believin' in it for me.... an' I know he'll keep holdin' it an' believin' it 'till I'm strong enough to do the job myself. An' see, I know it's good, what he's doin'.... but it makes me mad at the same time. I finally understand that what I always thought love was... it wasn't. Love don't always hurt... an' it ain't about givin' all the time, but never gettin' back what you need. I said yes 'cause I've spent too many years bein' wrong. What I see in Darien's eyes.... that, right there, is real love."  
  
With one hand Claire swept away the tears rolling down her face, with the other she replaced the mini-recorder in her pocket.  
  
"That was absolutely beautiful, Bobby. I didn't know you had words like that in you."  
  
"I didn't for a long time. Knowin' him gave 'em back to me.... showed me how to say it right. You wait 'till tomorrow. I wrote some killer vows."  
  
"I wish I could help you sleep. You'll be stressed enough tomorrow night without adding fatigue to the mix." she said gently as she rose to her feet and prepared to head back to her own room.  
  
"It's okay. Maybe I can do it myself now. I'll just.... pretend he's with me. It's not as good as the real thing, but.... it might work."  
  
"I hope so. Oh, by the way, there's a packet of tissues in the nightstand."  
  
"What do I need tissues for? I'm not cryin'."  
  
"No, of course not. I just thought I'd mention where they were. For the sake of conversation."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Good-night, Bobby."  
  
"Night, Claire."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
SAME TIME PERIOD: THE APARTMENT  
  
As he passed through Darien's living room with a glass of water, Eberts found his proposed bed on the sofa already occupied by Darien. He had been prepared to go into his friend's room and sit with him in order to get the information he needed, but sighed quietly with relief when he discovered the invasion of Darien and Bobby's private space wouldn't be necessary.  
  
"Darien? What are you doing still up? It's late and you have a long day tomorrow."  
  
"I know. I just can't sleep if Bobby's not here."  
  
"Strange." Eberts mused, dropping to sit beside the other man and sliding his hand, which contained the mini-recorder, briefly behind a pillow. He then slowly retrieved his hand, leaving the device behind. "I've heard about this phenomenon, but only in couples who've been together for decades and are still... oh. I never considered... you and Robert haven't become.... intimate again, have you?"  
  
"Depends what you mean by 'intimate'. We sleep in the same bed, yeah, but no, we're not "sleeping" together. Not that we won't ever... we just both agree that we're not ready yet."  
  
"So what is intimacy for you and Robert at this point? How do you define the word as it applies to your relationship?"  
  
"Who are you, Barbara Walters all of a sudden?"  
  
"Can't I be curious? What you've found I may never achieve. Naturally I'm a bit intrigued.... and perhaps a bit jealous. Indulge me?"  
  
"Yeah... okay. I'll try. Define it. I'm not sure I can. There's too much...We'd be here for a week. There is a physical aspect to it. We touch, hold hands.... kiss. Boy... do we kiss. He has this.... thing he does to help me sleep when I'm really scared or just restless."  
  
"Yes, of course. He used it during the Cesarean section when you became... upset."  
  
"I freaked out. It's okay, Ebes. I don't remember much about those few hours, but that stayed with me. Anyway, you know what I'm sayin' then, right? It's about as intimate as two people can get an' all he does is touch my face."  
  
"I recall being stunned that such a simple technique could have such a profound and rapid effect. Your delusion seemed to have a very powerful hold on you until Robert stepped in."  
  
"It did. Nobody else could do that for me. Nobody else could just... slide a finger across my forehead an' make me feel completely safe. He's the key.... to my life, to everything. It's the trust he has in me. That trust is a big part of the rest of what makes us so close.... closer than anything physical could ever do. He's.... in my head almost. There's this little niche inside me now.... this space that's all about Bobby. When he's not close to me, or at least somewhere around, that space turns into a hole. I never thought anything could hurt worse than my QS head-bangers, but.... that hole does."  
  
"You do genuinely love him then."  
  
"With everything I am. I didn't always know it.... or maybe I just never called it what it was. When I knew for sure I was pregnant with Bobbi Claire, after I made it past the 'No way, God. Not me' stage, all I could think about was Hobbes. What would he say? How was he gonna react to the news?"  
  
"This is fascinating. I don't believe I've ever heard this part of your story. Please go on."  
  
"Well, his first reaction was the same as mine; he passed out. Then he got mad, thinkin' Claire an' I were pullin' a practical joke on him. We convinced him it was true and managed to drag him back to the Keep so Claire could explain the hows an' whys an' all that stuff. She started talkin' about takin' the baby outta me so she could study it.... figure out how to stop it happenin' again. I still get a cold shiver when I think.... She couldn't believe it when I said I'd never let her do that. She looked at Bobby.... from her expression you could just see that she automatically expected him to back her up. Instead he told her that whatever I decided, he'd support me, even if my choice was to try an' have the baby."  
  
"She must have been ready to give up on the sanity of both you and Robert."  
  
"Just about. When he said he thought it was my right to see the pregnancy through, if I felt that was the right thing for me... I was so blown away by that. He's been there for me every minute since."  
  
"Not *every* one...."  
  
"Yeah, even while he was gone. He said he thought about me an' Bobbi that whole time an' I believe him. That's why he backed off in the first place.... 'cause he needed time to think. Trust wasn't always in Hobbes' vocabulary, Ebes. You know that better than anybody. I showed him I can forgive him an' keep lovin' him, even when he makes a mistake, an' now.... he trusts me. With his pain, his secrets... an' most of all, with his heart. You're damn right I love Bobby Hobbes. How could I not? The man handed me the password to his soul. No question, no hesitation, just.... ' Here. This is everything I am, everything that means anything to me. I trust you to take good care of it.' When he said he'd marry me, I swore to myself that I'd be worthy of him someday.... an' even if it kills me, I'm keepin' that promise."  
  
"I think you already have, Darien. Many times over."  
  
Eberts leaned over to the table to grab some tissues for his streaming eyes and offered one to Darien.  
  
"What? I'm okay. I don't need that."  
  
"Oh. Of course you don't. Well, we should both try to get some rest. Do you.... have tissues in your room?"  
  
"Actually.... no. We ran out last night. I haven't grabbed a new box from the bathroom yet."  
  
"Perhaps you should take one or two... just in case you need them later?"  
  
"Yeah. I might. Thanks."  
  
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"  
  
"Nah. I think I'm gonna try to go to bed... see if I can dream about him. Sleep well, Ebes. See you in the morning."  
  
"Yes. I will try. You do like blueberry pancakes, I hope? I brought the ingredients with me, thinking it might take some pressure off of you if I did the cooking tomorrow. Up until the reception of course."  
  
"Blueberry pancakes?" Darien repeated, his eyes widening.  
  
"I can make waffles instead if you prefer. I also brought my own personal waffle iron...."  
  
"No! I love blueberry pancakes! You can have the run of the house tomorrow. Just do two things for me. Leave me a copy of the recipe and show me how to make it. Bobby's idea of breakfast is coffee an' juice an' I couldn't make scratch pancakes if my life depended on it."  
  
"Absolutely. I'd be happy to do both. Now, off to bed with you. Have lovely dreams, Darien."  
  
"I will now. Pancakes...." he drawled, reminiscent of Homer Simpson in the midst of a donut fantasy.  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TBConcluded..... 


	26. Grow Old Along With Me Part 2 Finale

A Wedding Song 26/26 : Grow Old along With Me Part 2 - Story Conclusion  
  
Neil Diamond, Bread(David Gates), Alison Krause, Faith Hill and someone else I'm not sure of at the moment own the songs, not me.  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
LATE THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON  
  
"Bobby, please relax. Everything is fine. If you'll just get dressed...."  
  
"I can't. I can't do this! The stupid tux don't fit right, my hands are shakin' so bad they're about to fall off... this is a disaster!"  
  
"No, it isn't. A disaster would be you walking out to get married in your dressing gown. Your tuxedo fits perfectly. Now if we can just get you into it..."  
  
"No! This is such a mistake.... it'll never work.... ah crap." Bobby moaned, finally halting his manic pacing to drop into a convenient chair, head in his trembling hands. Claire immediately swung over on her crutches to stand next to him, praying she could talk him down from the emotional ledge he seemed poised to hurl himself off of.  
  
"Listen to me, Bobby. You're frightened and nervous. Those feelings are perfectly normal, but you can't let them overwhelm you. Remember the breathing I've been showing you in yoga the past week or two? Sip the air in through your nose a little at a time.... keep that up until your lungs just feel filled. Good, now release it through the mouth.... slowly.... one long, slow exhalation. Excellent. Do it again. Very good. How do you feel now?"  
  
"Like an idiot. I've said some dumb things before, but that takes the cake, the frostin' an' the ice cream too."  
  
"The cake is on the kitchen table and the ice cream is in the freezer. I checked when we arrived."  
  
As Claire had intended, Bobby chuckled at the remark, visibly loosening up.  
  
"Wherever this new comedy thing is comin' from, keep it up. I like it. This is really gonna happen.... I'm really gonna get married again. I said I never would.... that it wasn't worth the mess or the heartache...."  
  
"Darien is worth it. He loves you so much, Bobby. This is just a ceremony.... an expression of that love. In the end, ceremonies mean very little. It's the reasons behind them that matter."  
  
"I know. I gotta focus on him.... on how good we are together an' how right this is. It's gonna be perfect. Totally perfect."  
  
"That's the attitude! Ready to get dressed, now are we?"  
  
"Oh yeah! Lemme at that monkey suit!"  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
"Darien, please calm down...."  
  
"F-forget it, E-Eberts! Just g-go tell Claire an' B-Bobby it's off!"  
  
"I will do no such thing! You will be alright, I promise you that."  
  
"Alright?! Y-you call this alright? I c-can't make it stop... as h-hard as I try I can't m-make it s-stop! It's seventy-two d-degrees in here.... so why do my teeth k-keep chatterin'? I c-can't go out there sh-shakin' an' cryin an' trippin' over my t-tongue like this! What's B-Bobby gonna think?"  
  
"Most likely, he'll be thinking 'Thank God it isn't only me. Darien's suffering through precisely the same fears I am'." Eberts consoled Darien as he turned the other man back to the mirror so he could finish securing his bow tie.  
  
"Bobby Hobbes? The master of grace under pressure? Never." Darien responded quietly, his own extreme reactions settling down as he contemplated the daunting concept of what could make someone as cool and collected as Bobby nervous.  
  
"Never say never. You were isolated here in the bedroom when he arrived this afternoon, remember? If he'd been shaking just a little bit harder," Eberts confessed as he gave the tie one last straightening tug "the upstairs tenant would have reported a small and very localized earthquake to state authorities."  
  
"No way... not Bobby."  
  
Eberts gripped Darien's shoulders and met his friend's eyes in the full- length mirror on the closet door.  
  
"Robert is quite good at hiding his fragility and his tender heart behind a mask of strength and self-possession, but if anyone knows the man behind that veneer.... it's you. When he looks at you, anyone could see how he truly feels. You, Darien Fawkes, are all that man wants and needs.... and thought he'd never receive. If you were within minutes of being freely given your greatest wish, wouldn't it make you a bit apprehensive?"  
  
"I am... an' it is. I guess it's okay. If he's half the train wreck I am, he'll never notice. At least now I can talk without stutterin'.... I still can't stop cryin', though.... damn."  
  
"You're fine, Darien. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Just keep reminding yourself that love is the greatest gift anyone can give or be given. Robert has offered you not only his love, but the truth of who he is. If that isn't reason to shed a few tears, I'd like to know what is."  
  
"He's given me so much of his strength, sometimes I forget I don't always have to be strong with him. I forget he knows my heart better than I do. Okay. I'm ready now. Let's do this."  
  
"Yes. Let's."  
  
"Oh, and Eberts? You know that just 'cause we're not doin' the best man thing.... it doesn't mean I don't know who it is. You're the best man I've ever known, second only to Bobby. I'll never forget what you've done for me... for all of us. You saved my baby girl then you saved her *and* her Godmother from Alex. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not brave, okay? Claire an' I both know better an' we'll slap you silly for even thinkin' it."  
  
"Clearly understood." Eberts confirmed, having to restrain his own tears now. "Shall we go get you married?"  
  
"Are you kiddin'? I am *so* ready for this...."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
Claire and Bobby moved into the living room side by side, Claire hobbling along on her crutches, Bobby shuffling in a step at a time and praying his legs wouldn't buckle and drop him to the floor. Grimly, he focused on the woman beside him and making sure she was having no trouble getting across the uncarpeted floor, rather than on his own acute case of nerves.  
  
Darien and Eberts appeared from the other side of the apartment at virtually the same moment. As Eberts had predicted, Bobby was immensely relieved to see his only love, the man he considered a tower of strength, clinging to his escort's arm as if that support were the only thing keeping him upright.  
  
When the two pairs met in the center of the living room, Claire and Eberts peeled off and turned to take seats in the chairs that had been set up a few feet behind the ceremony area. Or they would have, if the soon-to-be- married couple hadn't stuck to them like glue.  
  
"Don't you dare leave me up here alone, Eberts! My knees are jello! If you leave, I'm gonna end up on the floor lookin' like a fool!"  
  
"Claire, don't go! You don't need to stand up the whole time.... I'll piggyback you if I have to, just don't go!"  
  
"Bobby...."  
  
"Darien...."  
  
" " Look at him." "  
  
Each man turned to the other and their daughter's Godparents were abruptly forgotten. Suddenly, Bobby's world shrank to the color of his love's eyes and the tears he found shimmering there. Slowly, he extended a trembling hand to touch Darien's cheek.  
  
"You okay, baby?"  
  
"Yeah. My eyes won't stop waterin', that's all. Must be an allergy I didn't know I had."  
  
"Allergy... right. I got the same thing. Guess it's goin' around, huh?"  
  
"Think it's the tuxes?"  
  
Bobby laughed softly.  
  
"Could be. Never know. I missed you so bad last night. I barely slept." He confessed, slipping his hands into Darien's now.  
  
"I know. I managed maybe two hours. How could you let Claire talk you into that...."  
  
"Forget it. It's done, we're together now. Let's get this over with so I can kiss you.... it's just too bad we don't dare show Claire an' Eberts how hot our lip locks can really get."  
  
"You ain't seen nothin'. Just wait 'till they go home, buddy boy...."  
  
"Is that a promise.... or a threat?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"Yippee-kai-ay...."  
  
"Gentlemen." Betsy interrupted, laughing. "From the intensity of the looks you two are shooting each other I think you're anxious to get on with this. Shall we?"  
  
"Oh. Sorry, Betsy. *Somebody* who shall remain nameless, but may not get any cake at the party, convinced us to stay in separate houses last night." Darien explained.  
  
"Yeah. We missed each other. Can ya tell?"  
  
"If you hadn't said anything I never would have known." she replied with gentle sarcasm and another chuckle. "You two have your vows ready?"  
  
Both men pulled papers from their pockets. "Good. Bobby, you start."  
  
Hobbes sucked in a deep breath, held it for several seconds then let it out slowly. When he looked down at his hands they hadn't stopped shaking entirely but the sheet he held was now at least fairly still and the words no longer seemed about to vibrate off the page.  
  
"Just remember, I don't write the way I talk, so it's gonna sound a little weird, okay?"  
  
"We all love you, Bobby." Claire intoned solemnly.  
  
To show that he understood the friendly reminder, Bobby grinned at her, received a small smile in return and, after another deep breath, began his half of the vows.  
  
"I will never again walk away from you and our daughter."  
  
"Now you, Darien." Betsy instructed.  
  
"I will always trust you to tell me how you're feeling, good or bad."  
  
"I will never again put myself down in front of you, or allow others to do so."  
  
"I will always remember to tell you how special and amazing you are and how much I need you."  
  
"I will never allow my past wounds and disappointments to keep me from having faith and confidence in the love you give me right now."  
  
"I will always look ahead to our future together as a family, not behind at my mistakes and bad choices."  
  
"I will never forget how much pain, sacrifice and loss you've come through in your life. It stuns me that you're still here, with so much left to give to me. You were willing to endure something nobody ever has, just to give our little girl a chance at life. I know the questions must've been in the back of your mind through the whole pregnancy: Is this going to last or is it a house of cards we've been building? Is it real, or made of nothing but paper and air? Will both of us make it... or is this the day the house falls down and I lose everything we've fought so hard for? Thanks to you, we all made it through the birth. You are so determined and so strong.... and when you decide you love somebody, the intensity of that love could burn down half of California. I promise I will never take for granted that you chose to give that powerful, life-changing love to me and I will cherish it, and you and Bobbi, every day in every way."  
  
Trying desperately to contain the hitching sobs that wanted to escape him, Darien reached out and pulled Bobby to him for a moment, kissing him briefly on the forehead and murmuring in his ear.  
  
"You're not helping my allergy any, you know. I'll never be able to read mine now...."  
  
"Yeah, you can, love. If you don't we'll never get to tonight.... when everybody leaves."  
  
"Powerful incentive...."  
  
Darien pulled back, cleared his throat, beamed a radiant smile at Bobby and began.  
  
"I will always remember the night you opened up a chapter in your past to me that you'd never revealed to anyone else. When you asked me not to talk until you'd gotten the whole story out, I knew it had to be bad, but I couldn't know how bad. As we sat on the couch and you poured out your heart to me, mine broke for you. The fact that you could come through something so horrific and survive to be standing here with me today, whole and strong and still able to love.... that's a testament to your incredible strength. I know you only told me your secret because you trusted that it would stay between us and that trust was well placed. I will always treasure your trust, knowing it for the unique and precious gift it is; one very few have received."  
  
When Betsy spoke up to complete the ceremony, her voice cracked and failed on the first word or two she tried and she had to start again.  
  
"Sorry, everyone. I... I usually don't get choked up, but that.... that was really beautiful. You got me. Good job, gentlemen. Now the rings. Bobby? Would you like to go first again?"  
  
"Sure." Hobbes replied quietly, slipping the ring box from his pocket.  
  
"Repeat after me as you place the ring on Darien's hand. I give you this ring as a symbol of my commitment and my love...."  
  
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my commitment and my love..."  
  
"May our union be blessed by God and the friends that surround us here."  
  
"May our union be blessed by God.... an' the friends that surround us here."  
  
Darien shivered, much as he had the night he and Bobby had received their engagement rings. The sensation of something incomplete and damaged finally being made whole nearly overwhelmed him. It took Betsy calling his name to anchor him again.  
  
"Darien?"  
  
His expression one of a sleeper awakened from a deep, intense dream, Darien fumbled the small square from his pocket, almost dropping it in the process. Bobby's hand on his calmed his racing heart, enabling the younger man to open the box and extract the small circle of gold.  
  
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my commitment and my love. May our union be blessed by God and the friends that surround us here."  
  
"I now declare that the ceremony is completed. You are therefore wed; bonded in mutual passion, support and friendship. Honor the promises you made this day and always love. Go in the peace of God."  
  
When Bobby and Darien simply stood and stared at each other, Betsy laughed and encouraged them. "Well? Kiss somebody, you goofballs! Each other, preferably, but I expect one too. It's in my contract."  
  
Shaking off the shock, Bobby drew Darien into his arms and softly kissed him. Darien fell into it completely, only retreating when he realized Claire, Eberts and Betsy were all clearing their throats.  
  
"Hey, she said we could kiss...."  
  
"Yes, but she didn't say suffocate each other, did she?" Claire corrected.  
  
"What I said about the comedy, Claire? I take it back." Bobby teased, smirking at her.  
  
"Hobbes. We do have something else to do, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yeah! The songs. C'mon. I can't wait for you to hear this. It's sappy, but it's so perfect for us." Bobby enthused, dragging his husband by the hand to where a small portable stereo sat on a card table.  
  
"Songs?" Claire asked, sitting forward in her chair.  
  
"It's somethin' we worked up. A while ago Darien was talkin' about really likin' the mix tapes I made him durin' the pregnancy. So he thought our first wedding present to each other should be a song we picked out; one that really said how we feel. We picked two each actually, but the other one.... it's supposed to be more personal so you guys don't get to hear it. We didn't say anything 'cause we weren't sure if we'd be able to find songs that we felt strong enough about, but when I heard this.... I knew it was right."  
  
Grinning, Claire leaned in and whispered to Eberts.  
  
"I wasn't aware Bobby Hobbes was capable of getting that excited over anything, never mind a piece of music."  
  
"Nor I. This should be interesting."  
  
Turning back to face Darien, Bobby gazed up into his eyes. His husband didn't have to try very hard to see the hope Hobbes was repressing, almost as if the idea of automatic rejection hadn't quite been purged from his mind and spirit yet.  
  
"I know what you're gonna say when you hear this, Darien; 'First Country, now Easy Listening? Bobby Hobbes has finally lost whatever lousy taste in music he had to start with.' All I ask is that you listen. Listen to the words.... an' open up your mind a little, okay?"  
  
"I can see how much this means to you. No teasing, no moaning, no rude noises I swear. Push the button."  
  
Bobby quickly depressed the play button with one finger and tried to turn away, remembering the effect the song had on him the first time. Darien grasped his hand and urged him to keep eye contact. "Don't do that. Don't hide.... not from me. Please?"  
  
As the lyrics to the song began to float through the group, Bobby reconnected with his new husband eye-to-eye and soul to soul. Caught up in the newlyweds intent, unwavering focus on each other, it took a moment before the song's lyrics began to register on Claire. When they finally did, myriad images from Bobby and Darien's relationship flooded her mind and she began to cry. At first she ducked her head, but when she thought to look, she realized that even stolid, steady Eberts had reached for his handkerchief and she tipped her chin back up.  
  
###The story of my life is very plain to read.  
  
It starts the day you came and ends the day you leave.  
  
The story of my life begins and ends with you.  
  
The names are still the same, the story's still the truth.  
  
I was alone.  
  
You found me waiting and made me your own.  
  
I was afraid  
  
That somehow I never could be the man that you wanted of me.  
  
You're the story of my life and every word is true.  
  
Each chapter sings your name, each page begins with you.  
  
It's the story of our times and never letting go.  
  
If I die today, I wanted you to know.  
  
Stay with me here, share with me, care with me, stay and be near.  
  
And when it began,  
  
I'd lie awake every night just knowing somewhere deep inside  
  
that our love affair just might write.....  
  
The story of my life is very plain to read.  
  
It starts the day you came and ends the day you leave.....###  
  
By the time the last note faded out, every person in the room had succumbed to the emotional message of the song and the box of tissues was making the rounds for the third time. Darien, still tightly locked into Bobby's gaze, was trying to speak, to express his feelings about his husband's gift, but his throat was too tight to produce even a hint of sound. Stopping his cassette, Hobbes laid his index finger against Darien's lips, grasped his hand and moved it to the controls for the other side of the tape deck. Understanding the implication, Darien smiled, pushed play and allowed his gift to do the talking.  
  
### If a picture paints a thousand words then why can't I paint you?  
  
The words would never show the you I've come to know.  
  
If a face can launch a thousand ships then where am I to go?  
  
There's noone home but you. You're all that's left me to.  
  
And when my love for life is running dry,  
  
You come and pour yourself on me.  
  
If a man could be two places at one time I'd be with you.  
  
Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.  
  
If the world should stop revolving, spinning slowly down to die,  
  
I'd spend the end with you and when the world was through  
  
Then one by one the stars would all go out,  
  
and you and I would simply fly away.###  
  
As the song ended, Claire glanced at Bobby and realized he was utterly lost, as numb as Darien had been a few moments before and just as unable to find the words to speak what was in his heart. With Eberts' help she rose onto her good foot, positioned her crutches and moved to Bobby's side to hug him and give him something easier to talk about.  
  
"This has been the most amazing day, Bobby. Thank you so much for letting me be here with you. This is something that will be with me forever..."  
  
"Hey," Hobbes choked out finally, turning into the hug and wrapping his arms around her. "it wouldn't a'been the perfect day without you an' Eberts. What did I do to deserve this, huh? I've found the one person I'm supposed to love an' I've got friends willin' to put their lives on the line for me and each other. How could any guy ask for more than that?"  
  
"You never had to ask, Bobby.... you never had to ask."  
  
A few feet away, Darien stood with his arm draped over Eberts' shoulders.  
  
"No way. I was a mess! I never would have made it through this without you."  
  
"You would have been fine. All I did was provide a bit of encouragement and remind you of the reasons you were getting married. You did beautifully. The vows you and Robert wrote.... they were so emotional and powerful. I must admit I was quite affected. Now I believe it's time for a gift from Claire and I. Claire?"  
  
"Right here. Is it time?"  
  
"It certainly is."  
  
Reaching into her pocket, Claire pulled out a CD case and handed it to Eberts, who moved to the stereo and popped the disc into the player at the top. "If you'll listen closely gentlemen, you'll see that you have judged Claire much too harshly for her actions last night. In short... let her eat cake." he said, pressing the play button.  
  
### / He's.... in my head almost. There's this little niche inside me now.... this space that's all about Bobby. When he's not close to me, or at least somewhere around, that space turns into a hole. I never thought anything could hurt worse than my QS head-bangers, but.... that hole does./  
  
// After all this time.... we have this sense about each other. I know when he's around, he knows when I'm around.... we both know when the other one ain't.//  
  
/I just can't sleep if Bobby's not here/  
  
//If he's not close to me, I don't sleep.//  
  
{ What made you say yes? How do you know this is the right thing to do?}  
  
//It's his eyes. Every dream I quit on or quit carin' about.... an' every single thing I ever *really* wanted but made myself shove in the flyin' oinkers file.... //  
  
/It's the trust he has in me. That trust is a big part of the rest of what makes us so close.... closer than anything physical could ever do.... /  
  
//I look in his eyes an' I can see he's holdin' all that stuff for me.... an' believin' in it for me.... an' I know he'll keep holdin' it an' believin' it 'till I'm strong enough to do the job myself.//  
  
/I showed him I can forgive him an' keep lovin' him, even when he makes a mistake, an' now.... he trusts me. With his pain, his secrets..... an' most of all, with his heart. He's the key.... to my life, to everything. /  
  
//An' see, I know it's good, what he's doin'.... but it makes me mad at the same time. I finally understand that what I always thought love was... it wasn't. Love don't always hurt... an' it ain't about givin' all the time, but never gettin' back what you need. I said yes 'cause I've spent too many years bein' wrong. What I see in Darien's eyes.. that, right there, is real love.//  
  
/ You're damn right I love Bobby Hobbes. How could I not? The man handed me the password to his soul. No question, no hesitation, just.... ' Here. This is everything I am, everything that means anything to me. I trust you to take good care of it.' When he said he'd marry me, I swore to myself that I'd be worthy of him someday.... an' even if it kills me, I'm keepin' that promise./  
  
"Eberts, you sneaky little... We weren't out of syrup this morning!" Darien accused, punching his friend in the shoulder.  
  
"Actually you nearly were, but I also needed a legitimate sounding excuse to slip my tape to Claire so she could add it to the one she'd made and have time to compose the CD before driving Bobby back here for the ceremony."  
  
"So pullin' us apart last night.... it was all for this?" Bobby asked Claire wonderingly.  
  
"Albert and I talked and talked about presents but we couldn't come up with any ideas. You didn't need anything for the house or for Bobbi and everything else we thought up seemed trite and overdone. Finally he had this brainstorm. What better gift could we give you than something we'd made ourselves?"  
  
If you'll notice...." Eberts commented as he extracted the disc. "Claire even created a custom label. She's titled it 'From the Heart'. Quite appropriate." He mused as he slipped the CD back into its case and handed it to Darien.  
  
"Well. I think it's time to party, don't you?" Betsy suggested gleefully. "Somebody throw some upbeat music in that stereo! Not that the CD wasn't incredibly touching, but I can't eat and bawl my eyes out at the same time and right now I'm starved!"  
  
"Point taken, Betsy. Okay everybody, into the kitchen. Dinner first. Anyone who touches the cake before we've all eaten" Darien ordered, looking pointedly at Bobby, "will be beaten to death with a celery stick off the veggie platter!"  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
NINETY MINUTES LATER  
  
"Darien, you put that cake down! This dress cost me a fortune. Don't you dare get near me with that..."  
  
"So we love the CD. Doesn't mean you guys don't get punished for puttin' us through hell last night."  
  
"Calm down, Robert. If you come any closer I won't be responsible...."  
  
"Oh, yeah, Eberts? Responsible for what?" Bobby asked, gently bouncing his slice of wedding cake in one hand  
  
"For the scream that decimates your eardrums. Back away slowly...."  
  
"But it's chocolate cake, Claire. You like chocolate." Darien teased.  
  
"On a plate with ice cream, yes, but not on my face or down my.... dress."  
  
"Dress. Riiiiight." He taunted, laughing wickedly. "Live an' learn, Keepie. When we renew our vows in twenty-five years you'll know better than to wear something so low-cut."  
  
"Open wide, my friend. Maybe I won't get any on that pretty silk tie...."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
TEN P.M.  
  
"Please? C'mon Darien. I'm beggin' here an' you know I don't beg..."  
  
"I will not do that in public! No way!"  
  
"Ari, please...."  
  
The pet name finally broke Darien's defenses down.  
  
"Ah, crap... okay. So, I'll dance...."  
  
Bobby led his husband by the hand out into the space that had been cleared of furniture for the ceremony.  
  
### It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart.  
  
Without sayin' a word you light up the dark.  
  
Try as I may I could never explain  
  
What I hear when you don't say a thing.  
  
The smile on your face lets me know that you need me,  
  
There's a truth in your eyes sayin' you'll never leave me.  
  
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall.  
  
You say it best when you say nothin' at all.....###  
  
Gradually, as they moved together, Darien relaxed and their movements became more graceful and less awkward.  
  
"I hate dancing. I've always been a rotten dancer." Darien whispered in Bobby's ear. "But with you.... suddenly it's not so bad."  
  
"Good to know. Feel like a little Macarena?"  
  
Darien kicked Bobby's shin lightly in response and laughed softly in his ear. "Oh. Guess The Electric Slide is out, then huh?"  
  
"Bobby... shut up and go start this song again. It's almost over..."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
ELEVEN P.M.  
  
"The fish knows about our deal with Danny, right Eberts?"  
  
"He's been informed, yes."  
  
"Sounds like he wasn't happy."  
  
"Is he ever pleased about anything lately? Not that he doesn't have good reason to be depressed. Alex is locked in one of the padded rooms and may never see the outside world again. Stark still hasn't been caught. His job is more difficult now than it ever was."  
  
"Do I hear sympathy for the devil? I hope not." Bobby intoned quietly, his voice almost a growl.  
  
"No, Robert, what you hear is empathy for a man who was once my dearest friend before he became so misguided and... confused. Charles is a good man at heart, but he's also pragmatic. He'll do whatever he thinks is necessary in order to achieve the stated objective. He isn't evil."  
  
"I'm sorry, Ebes. I forget how tight you two were. I know it can't be easy on you...."  
  
"No. It's alright. I've.... come to terms with it. I have the two of you, Claire and the lovely Roberta in my life now. That's more than adequate compensation for the potential loss of Charles."  
  
"Potential. I like that. Glad to see not everybody's given up on him." Darien commented.  
  
"Not ever. I loathe the thought of surrendering any human to the darkness without at least making an effort to save them."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"I noticed. I saw that picture you taped onto the window of Alex's room."  
  
"Yeah, well..."  
  
"Picture? What picture?" Bobby asked, but Darien flushed and shunted his question aside.  
  
"You want another cup of coffee, Ebes? There's plenty."  
  
"No thank you. I really should be getting home. Thank you for the opportunity to share this extraordinary day with you both. I enjoyed it immensely."  
  
"We're glad you could be here. Bobby was right, it wouldn't have meant half as much without you and Claire. Lemme grab my jacket an' I'll walk you out to your car."  
  
Once Darien had seen their last guest to his vehicle, he strolled back into the living room and dropped tiredly to the sofa beside Bobby, contemplating the mess of torn gift-wrapping, plates, glasses and napkins. "I guess I better get started on this disaster or we'll never get to sleep...."  
  
As he began to get back on his feet, Hobbes gripped his shoulder and pulled him back down, turning the other slightly toward him at the same time.  
  
"Betsy's got the kid for twenty-four hours, you an' I've got all day tomorrow to clean up an' put this place in order. It can wait. You promised to show me somethin'. Or... was that a threat? I don't remember..." Bobby breathed, placing a soft, brief kiss on the sensitive spot just above the point of Darien's jaw.  
  
"Yeah? My memory's kinda.... shot too. Remind me...."  
  
"I said... too bad we couldn't show Claire an' Eberts how hot we kiss..... an' you said.... wait 'till they go home. I'm waitin' inviso- geek...." Bobby murmured gruffly, scattering fast pecks over every spot on his husband's face except his lips.  
  
"Man.... you know damn well.... I hate that ni... nickname.... Hobbes.... you *really* don't wanna be doin' this to me here.... this is *the* couch, ya know?"  
  
"I see your point. Don't much care.... but I see your point."  
  
"Good... Long as we've g-got that.... straight.... damn, Hobbes that's my ear.... what the hell are you doin'...."  
  
"Tryin' to get you to shut up... an' quit thinkin' for a while."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"That's it?" Bobby chuckled. "Just... oh?"  
  
"Mmmm-hmmm.... shutting up, remember?"  
  
"Good boy. Now you're gettin' it....."  
  
"Am I ever.... Can I... get a little more.... maybe... please and thank you?"  
  
"Manners are always a plus..... when you're askin' for somethin' you really want." Bobby teased, his hands tangled in Darien's thick hair. "Which would be... what.... by the way?" he asked, pulling back slightly to find and read his partner's eyes.  
  
"Kiss me. Kiss me an' don't ever stop..... kiss me 'till my lips are too bruised to stand the pressure even one more second...."  
  
"Darien Fawkes a romantic. Who woulda thunk it?"  
  
"Hobbes... God, I know you can do somethin' with those lips besides talk. You're killin' me...."  
  
"Not yet I'm not." Bobby assured him, sliding his hands around Darien's lower back. "Just do one thing for me? Try not to close your eyes. Everything you feel ends up there. Lemme see that.... okay?"  
  
"I'll try.... I'll do anything you want, just get back over here..."  
  
Finally Hobbes gave in to Darien's pleading and leaned in to put an end to the tempting, tantalizing preamble he'd been engaged in. As their lips touched at last, Darien moaned his approval into Bobby's scarcely open mouth and his husband echoed it. The soft monotone vibration buzzed back and forth between the pair for a minute or two, lasting only until Hobbes' boldness and curiosity got the better of him and he flicked the tip of his tongue out to trace Darien's bottom lip. A lightning strike of energy lanced through the younger man's body and he knew playtime was most definitely over.  
  
When Hobbes sought out his partner's eyes, trying to gauge Darien's reaction to the unexpected move, he found the color deeper than usual, but no true panic existed within the dark orbs, only shock and intense excitement. Encouraged, Bobby tried again, measuring the entire perimeter of his husband's mouth this time. In response, Fawkes gave Bobby a surprise of his own.  
  
Wrapping both hands around the back of Hobbes' head, Darien gently, cautiously pressed his tongue against Bobby's lips, seeking to open them further, asking permission to take the next step. Groaning, Bobby allowed, even welcomed, Darien's efforts, despite knowing that there was little more they could do without crossing a line both had agreed they were not prepared to.  
  
As he slipped his tongue into the warm, wet darkness Bobby offered, Darien felt his control beginning to slip as well. As good intentions and agreed upon boundaries began to dissolve in the face of mounting desire and need, he found it harder and harder to remember why he was supposed to be backing away from something so beautiful, something he'd wanted for so long.  
  
{God... how can this feel so good?! It never felt this way with anybody else..... Is it him? Is this the way it's supposed to be when you *really* love someone? Love..... I do love you, Bobby.... Yeah, but if that's the truth, I gotta get control before I let this go way too far....}  
  
{So hot... perfect.... How come only he can do this to me? I never thought I was.... I've never wanted a guy like this.... Hell, I've never wanted anybody like this, guy, girl or whatever's in between! It's him. It's the only thing that makes sense.... God, I gotta get my head together somehow..... damn, I love you Darien.... We will finish this someday, I swear. I'm sorry it can't be now...}  
  
Gradually, though it was the last thing on earth he wanted to do, Bobby began to disengage and disentangle himself from his husband. He had to speak several times before he was able to acquire enough of Darien's attention so that he did the same.  
  
"Darien..... babe.... c'mon love..... I know.... I feel the same way... listen to me, okay? I wanna keep on too, but we can't...."  
  
"Bobby.... Oh, hey... I'm sorry. I got a little lost I think."  
  
"I know. It's okay. I didn't want it to end either, but.... it's a good time."  
  
"Yeah. I guess you're right."  
  
Suddenly, Darien laughed and quickly scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Holy.... I thought our first kiss was intense! When you licked my bottom lip... it felt like I stuck my finger in a light socket. It was.... like nothin' I ever felt before...."  
  
"I was just testin' the waters, ya know, seein' if that was.... alright with you. I never woulda thought you'd call my bluff and we'd end up in a full-blown French kiss... which was incredible, if you wanna know."  
  
"I always wanna know, Bobby. I wanna know everything an' I hope you'll tell me when you decide it's time. I.... need a shower." Darien stated matter-of-factly as he slowly stood up. This movement, however, brought something else to his attention. "Ahhhh.... make that a cold shower and a change of clothes." He mumbled ruefully, turning away from his partner's line of sight.  
  
Fully back to himself at last, Bobby gazed down at his lap and finally noticed several small, damp, warm spots, now growing cold and uncomfortable against his skin. Their source was also more than evident and he swiftly retrieved a throw pillow and slammed it down over his thighs. Mortified, he immediately shifted his eyes up again.  
  
"Ummm.... I got the same... problem. I'll take the bedroom."  
  
"Sure you don't want the shower first?" Darien said over his shoulder.  
  
"Nah. You take it. I can wait."  
  
"With memories of the last hour runnin' around my head.... I could be awhile."  
  
"It's okay. I got my own.... stuff to do. No beer amnesia tonight. Just.... leave me some cold water, huh?"  
  
"Shouldn't be a problem. I'll always love you, baby."  
  
"Every day, in every way, kid."  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
1:00 A.M.  
  
"It's okay, Bobby. We can do our other songs now. I'm too wound up to sleep. Man... what a day."  
  
"That's how I feel about the last few months. How'd we ever survive that little patch a'hell, anyway?"  
  
"Each other. I know I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't kept draggin' my head back above the water line. You just wouldn't let me go."  
  
"You're mixin' me up with the end of ' Titanic ', kid." Bobby chortled, brushing aside Darien's attempt at a loving confession.  
  
"Quit it, Bobby. I'm tryin' to be serious. You know me. I've never had a lotta stability... never felt really secure anywhere. You do that for me. You help me sleep when I don't think I can... even though I'm so tired I can't stand up anymore. You give me somewhere to hide when the world is usin' my head for a soccer ball. You cool me off when I'm ready to go nuclear, you heat me up just by sayin' my name a certain way.... You're my safe place.... and I need to thank you for that."  
  
"Damn, kid.... look, pass the portable stereo here, willya?" {Gotta distract myself... get control before I flood the whole damn house... I had to fall in love with the one person in the world who can make me cry practically on demand...}  
  
Darien reached down beside the bed for the small music system they'd used for the wedding and passed it to Bobby, planting a brief kiss on his husband's nose.  
  
"You're allergy's flaring up."  
  
"Yeah. I know. Where's that... did I put it in the tape drawer?"  
  
'I don't know.... maybe. It's the one labeled wedding song 2, right?" Darien asked, digging through what had officially become the music drawer of the nightstand.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Hmmm... nope. That's my favorite preggers mix tape.... here it is." He announced, tossing it to the other man and pulling out his own selection before shutting the drawer again. Bobby slid the tape out of its case, popped it in the player and pushed the start button, all without a word. He feared that if he tried to explain his choice or, indeed, say anything at all, he would be forced to flee in embarrassment. Instead, as he had done throughout the pregnancy and for the several months since, Hobbes allowed the music to speak for him. As soft, gentle guitar chords began to fill the room, Darien, who had been listening expectantly with his head lowered, abruptly looked up, studying Bobby carefully, then reached over and hit the pause button.  
  
"You swear you didn't peek at what I picked?"  
  
"I said I didn't a million times. Why?"  
  
"What inscription did you pick for my ring?"  
  
Bobby looked at his hands for a minute, then met Darien's gaze again  
  
"The best is yet to be."  
  
Darien stared at him, eyes wide.  
  
"No way." he responded breathily. "Yours says grow old along with me.... the first letters anyhow. It was too long..."  
  
"Okay. Wow. That's freaky, but I still don't get...."  
  
"Forget it. You'll see in a minute." Darien replied cryptically, re- starting the tape.  
  
### I can feel the magic floating in the air.  
  
Being with you gets me that way.  
  
Closer than I've ever felt before,  
  
and you know, and I know  
  
there's no need for words right now.  
  
I can feel you breathe, washin' over me,  
  
and suddenly I'm melting into you.  
  
Nothin' left to prove, baby all we need is just to be...  
  
The whole world just fades away, the only thing I hear  
  
is the beating of your heart.... ###  
  
By the time the song faded out, Bobby was studying his new husband just as intently as he was being observed. He couldn't come anywhere close to reading the look in Darien's eyes, and that worried him faintly. A moment later, the younger man opened his mouth to say something, but stayed silent, apparently deciding against speaking his mind. Instead, he turned the player toward him, ejected and returned Bobby's tape and slid his own into place.  
  
### Maybe tonight,  
  
we could close the door and lock ourselves inside.  
  
Take time to feel.  
  
I don't wanna miss the chance to be so real.  
  
The days all fly away and I forget the truth.  
  
Everything that matters, yes, is in this room,  
  
When you lie next to me, breathing the air I breathe,  
  
we don't have to speak, just be.  
  
Love's a precious thing, don't wanna waste a day,  
  
or one more minute without you in it.  
  
Life is so sweet when you lie next to me....  
  
Let the world around us just disappear... ###  
  
"So?"  
  
"So what?"  
  
"So... the songs. How'd you know?"  
  
"I didn't." Bobby protested. "I... I just picked one that said how I  
feel. I know it don't happen all that often anymore, but sometimes...  
I wake up before you do. I lay there... an' I watch you breathe. I  
can't help it. It's like there's somethin'... scared, way deep inside  
me. It says if I don't keep my eyes on that little... rise an' fall  
thing your chest does.... if I don't stay on guard 'till you wake  
up... you won't."  
  
"I won't.... what?" Darien questioned muzzily, his fatigue making his  
brain function slightly slower than normal.  
  
"Wake up."  
  
"God... Bobby..."  
  
"I know. I warned you, kid. I said if you let me into your life....  
I'd want all the way in an' I'd bring all my weirdness with me..."  
  
"No, I didn't mean... it's okay. The stuff I said about makin' me feel  
safe... that's all part of it. I need that. I need to know that, just  
for once, somebody gives a damn about me. Watch me sleep, watch my  
back.... it's all good."  
  
"Yeah... well, it wasn't all about that. Part of it was thinkin' about  
what it does to me when you talk in my ear. That ' washin' over me,  
suddenly I'm meltin' into you' part...."  
  
Darien placed the stereo back on the floor, leaned in and pressed his  
lips to the point of Bobby's jaw. After a moment, he slid up a bit and  
spoke barely loud enough to be heard, even that close.  
  
"Like this?"  
  
"Fawkes.... mmm.... an' I was just thinkin' about goin' to sleep..."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"I'm still thinkin'... it's just... the thought's losin' it's  
appeal.... real fast...."  
  
Grinning, Darien gradually backed off.  
  
"You're right. We do need to get some serious rest. Big cleanup  
tomorrow."  
  
"Rest. Yeah, maybe..."  
  
"You got another idea?"  
  
"Truth or Dare."  
  
"You wanna turn this into a slumber party?" Darien chuckled.  
  
"I got a question I want answered an' I figured... why not make it  
fun?"  
  
"Okay. I'm in. Truth."  
  
"What were you thinkin' just before I broke off the kiss tonight?"  
  
"You mean it?"  
  
"You can always take the dare if you're chicken."  
  
"A dare from your twisted mind? Never. What was I thinking? That  
you... are like nobody else I've ever known. I wondered if it felt so  
good 'cause I'm in love for the first time. Really in love, I mean.  
Then I thought, if I love you as much as I say I do, I needed to get  
control before I didn't give a damn how far we said we'd go. Your  
turn. Truth or Dare?"  
  
"Truth. Always truth with you."  
  
"Same question."  
  
"Mostly... I was thinkin' hot... an' wow. Viv drifted into my head for  
a second but I kicked her right back out. Compared to you she was like  
kissin' a cement sidewalk in January. In the middle of an ice storm."  
  
"Good. Definitely good. Anything else?"  
  
"Pretty much the same. I loved you an' I had to pull myself together.  
I made you a promise, too. I swore there'd come a day when we didn't  
have to stop. When the time's right...."  
  
"I know. Right, just not right now. I can wait, Bobby. One step at a  
time. C'mon. Lay down. We really do have to sleep." Darien urged,  
turning out the light.  
  
Bobby yawned widely and gave in.  
  
"Okay, okay. An' by the way... don't think I didn't notice what kinda  
music your other song was, mister Darien ' I Hate Country ' Fawkes."  
  
"Damn..." the younger man swore softly. "This doesn't mean you're  
blackmailing me, Bobby Hobbes."  
  
" 'Course it does."  
  
"No... not that... show a little compassion..."  
  
"Garth Brooks all day tomorrow."  
  
"Anything but that...."  
  
"Garth or Johnny Cash. Choose."  
  
Several seconds of silence was followed by a moan and surrender.  
  
"Garth Brooks."  
  
"Thought so...."  
  
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((  
  
END  
  
Even though I am planning a short set of chapters to tie up all the loose ends I've left hanging, I felt the need to toss out some colossal gratitude bouquets at this point.  
  
Thank You:  
  
To everyone who read and reviewed The Gift and this sequel on ff.net or on- list. To all the writers, whatever fandom, who inspire me daily. (Most especially SA, Scribe (both multi) and Ginger (tP), my fanfiction deities. If I ever grow up, I want to be just like them.) To everyone on my I-man fiction list; you make me laugh, make me think and make me want to be a better writer. I give y'all every bit of gratitude I can muster. Joyce, Sarah, Suzy, Karen, Dawn, Pip; you are my stalwart supporters and I will never be able to thank you enough for the continuous spiritual boosts you provide. This has been a true labor of love for me and knowing all of you loved it too made it that much easier.  
  
BuffyAngel68 


End file.
